The Secret Of The Dragon
by Lee Velviet
Summary: Draco is bitten by a vampire in his first year - he's been struggling with blood lust ever since, and searching for a cure. What happens when a certain young redhead inadvertently grabs his attention? D/G *New Chap. 9 A Day's Passing*
1. Default Chapter

Secret Of The Dragon  
  
Author: Lee Velviet  
  
E-Mail: Vampslay@Bellsouth.net  
  
Disclaimer: You know who this stuff belongs to-J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc-I own absolutely nothing! ::Sob:: (I Love You, J.K.! ^-^)  
  
Summary: Something's up with Draco Malfoy-he's even more evil than usual-he keeps odd hours, he's paler, he eyes blood like it's candy-could he be *gasp* a vampire? What happens when he sets his sights on the youngest Weasley? Draco goes Dracula! (Okay, melodrama aside, and the fact that I can't write summaries, please read on! ^-^)  
  
  
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy seemed more like his namesake during his fifth year at Hogwarts than ever-meaning he was in constant bad humor, snapping at everyone and everything that dared cross his path, and he looked about as friendly as a Hungarian Horntail.  
  
Ron Weasley complained loudly more than once, that Malfoy was behaving worse than Professor Snape after Neville Longbottom managed to melt another cauldron in his class-and certainly that was saying something.  
  
Harry finally decided after the Christmas Holiday that Malfoy had far surpassed Snape in nastiness, and therefore had no equal-he was even beginning to think Malfoy might be running neck and neck with Voldemort.  
  
Ginny had had the misfortune to run across him one afternoon as she hurried through the Entrance Hall-she'd been running extremely late for a class, and had dropped her Herbology book. She'd sighed in exasperation and turned, bending down to retrieve it. She'd stood unsteadily, so loaded down was she, and turned back around to rush off, only to run head on into Malfoy.  
  
Poor Ginny had landed on her rear on the stone floor, books scattered everywhere, her forearm bleeding nastily from a deep cut-Malfoy had had a glass bottle in hand –his homework for Potions class-and it had exploded when she'd run into him.  
  
Draco had been unharmed, but was furious about the destruction of his potion, fortunately harmless until heated. His robes had been soaked and stained, and his pale face had flushed bright red as he yelled at her in such a way that she still jumped whenever she heard his voice near. Which was, again, saying something Ginny didn't scare easily anymore-why should she, when she'd been possessed by Tom Riddle and been within eating distance of a giant Basilisk?  
  
Harry had been nearby, and had rushed to her aid-only to see Malfoy's face go utterly white and his eyes-Harry still swore he'd seen them flash red-had snapped shut when he'd seen the blood on Ginny's skin. He'd shut his mouth abruptly, and stalked off, without another word.  
  
Ginny had been shaking like a leaf when Harry reached her. "He's completely lost it."  
  
Harry had watched after Malfoy with narrowed eyes. "No doubt about it."  
  
Of course, none of them had known then that Draco Malfoy had been hiding something for over four years.  
  
None of them knew that on the night they had had detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest their first year, when Malfoy had screeched like a girl and ran off at the sight of Voldemort, he'd been attacked by a vampire, and bitten.  
  
No one knew that Draco Malfoy had been fighting a steadily losing battle against the taint of undead blood in him with potions snuck from Snape's private books and ingredients from Snape's private store.  
  
No one knew he'd been turning into a vampire.  
  
King's Cross –Next term  
  
Ginny passed Malfoy when she got onto the Hogwarts Express the next year. Just thinking his voice made her curl into a ball inside.  
  
The taller blonde boy looked down at her as he walked past her, the towering Crabbe And Goyle right behind. Draco's flashing opal-like eyes landed on her and narrowed, and she felt her knees tremble and her breath halt.  
  
So terrified was she that she didn't sense Harry coming up behind her, followed by Ron, and when Harry spoke, she jumped, her hand on her chest, nerves already shot.  
  
Ron put out a hand to steady her, his eyes dark as he looked over at Malfoy who had an amused sneer on his face.  
  
It was an endless moment, before Malfoy moved forward, but he left looking back over his shoulder at Ginny, and she couldn't help but feel he hadn't forgotten their little encounter last term.  
  
"He's such a jerk," Ginny said tremulously as they made their way back to an empty compartment to await Hermione.  
  
Harry and Ron flopped down on the bench seat across from Ginny, and they both looked at her expectantly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What happened that Malfoy was looking so murderous?"  
  
Ginny shook her head. "That's just it, Ron. Nothing happened. We just passed each other."  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes to glittering green slits. "I knew it."  
  
Ron looked at him curiously, patting his middle, which was emitting ominous growling noises. "What?"  
  
"Ill bet you anything that Malfoy has finally become a Death Eater. I bet there's a mark burned into his skin at this very moment."  
  
Ginny went quite pale beneath her mass of red curls.  
  
Ron's eyes grew wide and he visibly swallowed, his freckles standing out against his skin. "You don't think-"  
  
Harry nodded solemnly. "I wouldn't be a bit surprised."  
  
"But he ran screaming like a girl when he saw Voldemort in the Forbidden forest. Why would he-?"  
  
"Do you really think his father wouldn't force him into it? Lucius Malfoy was Voldemort's most trusted Death Eater. He wouldn't think twice about handing over his only son to the rotting bastard." Harry looked over at Ginny. "Sorry."  
  
"Oh, great, I had to get on the bad side of a future Death Eater," Ginny moaned, rubbing the back of her neck. "He's probably going to be torturing me all year, now!"  
  
Harry moved to sit next to her, patting her back awkwardly. "Don't worry. Ron and I will watch out for him."  
  
Just then Hermione walked in, staggering under the weight of a large book bag, and looking straggling and harassed. She made a face when she dropped the bag on Ron's foot and he yelped. "Sorry." She sat down next to him and her eyebrows rose when she saw Harry's arm around Ginny.  
  
"What's wrong, Ginny?"  
  
"Nothing, I'm fine. Just had a run in with Malfoy." Ginny smiled at Harry and he cleared his throat, dropping his arm.  
  
"Oh," Hermione bent and dug through her book bag.  
  
"Hello to you too," Ron said shortly, still rubbing his foot.  
  
She looked up at him, her brown eyes impatient. "Ah!"  
  
"What have you got there?" Ginny asked, watching as Hermione pulled a large, velvet covered object out of her bag.  
  
"A book." Harry and Ron said dryly at the same time.  
  
"A book, yes, but not just any book." Hermione pulled the heavy thing from its velvet pouch, arranging it on her lap.  
  
"A Complete Guide to the Prophecies of the Great Divinators," Ron read aloud. He rolled his eyes at Harry. "Great, as if Professor Trelawney isn't bad enough, now we'll have Hermione regaling us with tales of our horrible deaths and the coming of the end of the world-again, I might add- all year long."  
  
Hermione narrowed her brandy colored eyes and looked down at the book, opening it.  
  
"I thought you dropped Divination," Ginny said, confused.  
  
"I did, and believe me, I don't believe I could have learned much from that lying Harpy. But I saw this when I went to pick up my books in Flourish And Blotts. My curiosity got the better of me, I'm afraid." She thumbed through the pages until she found one marked with a tattered scarlet ribbon. "Listen to this-I think you might find it interesting."  
  
Harry stared at Hermione, his face flaming and eyes narrowed.  
  
Ginny looked pale and ill.  
  
Ron was laughing hysterically.  
  
Hermione looked at him like she would a naughty four-year old.  
  
"Oh come on!" Ron blurted. "It said there would be a great war between good and evil! Big surprise! And if you're thinking that the great warrior for the light was Harry, and that he would overcome the Dark Lord, I'm not going to doubt that-but, what did it say? 'A child of the flame and the dragon shall defeat him?'" He shook his head. "Ginny and Malfoy would never-they-" he snorted and fell over on his seat choking with laughter. "Can you imagine? Ginny and M-Malfoy? Having kids?" He howled, and Hermione shook her head, sighing with annoyance.  
  
"No, it's nothing to do with us," Harry agreed, his husky voice sounding short and clipped.  
  
Ginny shivered. There was no way she'd ever touch Draco Malfoy. Just the thought of those pale, flashing eyes looking at her made her ill.  
  
"Well, you're probably right," Hermione sighed, closing the book. "But you must admit it does sound familiar. I mean, Ginny does have flame red hair, and Malfoy's first name is Draco, a derivation of Dragon-"  
  
"Just drop it, Hermione," Harry snapped with uncharacteristic ire.  
  
Hermione looked hurt for a moment, and then she slid the book back into her bag. She looked as if she didn't quite know what to say for a moment.  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry said after taking a deep breath.  
  
"It's all right." Hermione gave him a slight smile of understanding.  
  
Ron had calmed himself by now, and was flipping the window shade to look out. "Looks like rain," he said boredly, grimacing when his stomach growled again.  
  
"Here," Ginny sighed regretfully, and pulled out a package of chocolate frogs from her bag.  
  
"You've been holding out on me!" Ron said accusingly, taking one of the small, flat boxes  
  
Ginny shrugged. "I got them in Diagon Alley the other day. I was saving them for a rainy day."  
  
Just then there was a burst of thunder, so close it made the train rumble.  
  
"Well, it's certainly that," Harry stated, accepting one of the frogs as the rain began pounding down on the roof in earnest.  
  
Ginny squeaked as her frog jumped free of it's box, emitting a somber croak, and landing on Ron's lap. "Hey, come back here!"  
  
Ron swept the frog into his hand and sighed, shaking his head. "Gone all still, that one." He peered at the piece of candy. "It's no fun when they don't wriggle."  
  
Hermione made a sound of disgust and threw her own frog into his lap.  
  
"Works every time," Ron told Harry in a mock whisper with a wink.  
  
Harry laughed and the disturbing book and its unsettling prophecies were soon forgotten as the four ended up chasing the unusually frisky chocolate frogs around the tiny compartment.  
  
Disaster struck shortly before their arrival at the Hogwarts Express station-Draco Malfoy made his yearly visit to antagonize Harry.  
  
"My, isn't this cozy," he drawled, and all four pairs of eyes turned to glare at him. Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him, their arms crossed. "Two Weasels, a Potty and a Mudblood, all roosting together. Makes for an interesting picture."  
  
"Can't you come up with anything original?" Hermione said snootily. "It's getting boring, always hearing the same thing come out of your mouth."  
  
Malfoy's head shot around to look at Ron as he snorted in laughter.  
  
"Keep laughing Weasley, for all the good it will do you." Malfoy's cold gaze settled with thinly veiled interest on Ginny, who was doing her best not to shrink from his gaze.  
  
"Eyes off her, Malfoy," Harry growled suddenly, standing and shielding her from him.  
  
Ginny's heart gave a wicked thump, and she blinked up at Harry's back, noticing how his black school robes stretched across his shoulder's as he drew himself up to his full height and tensed.  
  
"Sod off, Potter. You have no conception of who you're meddling with." She saw Crabbe and Goyle move in behind him.  
  
Ginny closed her eyes as her brother stood suddenly, too, hands fisting at his sides, his wand drawn. "Try something, Malfoy. I wouldn't mind seeing you covered in hexes again-maybe Hermione can manage a transfiguration charm. You'd make a nice ferret, again."  
  
Malfoy smiled chillingly. "I wouldn't like to give you that satisfaction, now would I?" He gave Harry a black look full of promise and turned almost floating eerily from the room.  
  
Ginny let out the breath she'd been holding and slumped over weakly.  
  
Harry muttered a curse under his breath, and Ron fell back into his seat.  
  
"Is it just me, or did he suck all the life out of the room?"  
  
Harry opened the window to let some air in-the air in the compartment was freezing, like a winter chill-the air outside felt far warmer and comforting.  
  
Ginny rubbed her arms, feeling as if her heart had turned to cold lead inside her breathless chest. She didn't want to think about the fact that she'd have to see Malfoy everyday as she passed from class to class- she had the feeling the entire year was going to be a nightmare.  
  
TBC  
  
(Review, Review! Let me know if I should continue this or if it's just plain holey like Swiss cheese! If you've read any of my other stories, you'll probably think I'm mad, posting another, and expecting to keep up with new chapters on all of them-what, there's like 7 now, I think? -I love to write, what can I say? I just wanted you all to have something new to read! ^-^ And if anyone is thinking of sending me a nasty e-mail about the Vampire Malfoy idea, I apologize early-I do know someone else had started a Draco Vampire Fic, and it's a great one, I suggest you read it-but do give mine a chance-I sincerely promise I started this before I ever read the other. Please don't flame me! I love you! ^-^ Anyway, hope you liked it! ~Lee) 


	2. 2 The Dreadful Visitor

Author: Lee Velviet  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing! All this belongs to J.K. Rowling-doesn't she rock? -Warner Bros. etc, etc.  
  
Summary: Something's up with Draco Malfoy-he's even more evil than usual-he keeps odd hours, he's paler, he eyes blood like it's candy-could he be *gasp* a vampire? What happens when he sets his sights on the youngest Weasley? Draco goes Dracula! (Okay, melodrama aside, and the fact that I can't write summaries, please read on! ^-^)  
  
(A/N: Hey, all. Sorry about the wait. ::Blushes:: Reality has truly intruded. Argh. I like that-Argh. Anyway, here's a new chapter-but first, I'd like to explain a wee bit about the variations I've used on Vampire myth. In this story, I've used the 'you're not truly a Vampire until you've actually "killed" someone' thing, kind of like from The Lost Boys, but I haven't used the 'You have to be invited to come in', part-I think you'll see what I mean, if you know a bit about Vampires and Vampire movies and books. My advice is-read this with an open mind, because I'm going to be using lots of different Vampire myths from lots of different places-to conveniently fit my story, of course, but hopefully you'll all like it and it will be perfectly understandable! Anyway, thanks for all the reviews, comments, e-mails and friendly advice. I really appreciate it! ^-^)  
  
  
  
2. The Dreadful Visitor  
  
  
  
"Midnight-The hail storm-The dreadful visitor. The Vampyre."  
  
–Varney the Vampyre, Preskett Prest 1847  
  
  
  
Ginny found herself unable to sleep that night-it was long after all the other girls in the sixth year dorm had fallen asleep, and she was tired, but something was bothering her…  
  
She rolled onto her side and blinked into the near darkness-she pulled her blankets close around her neck and shoulders. She never had been able to sleep unless she was curled up in her covers as if she'd spun a cocoon. The storm that had seemingly followed the train to Hogwarts was still raging outside, and now she could hear hail hitting the windows, and pounding the walls of the castle.  
  
Ginny closed her eyes, counting backwards from one hundred, hoping that the monotonousness of it would put her to sleep-but she reached thirty, and her mind wandered. The feeling was still there-it made her feel very uncomfortable; she likened it to the feeling she had whenever she discovered she'd forgotten something. A feeling of dread hung like a mantle over her shoulders, and she sighed, doing her best to push it away.  
  
After a full hour of tossing about, she fairly growled in frustration and got up, stalking toward the door and dragged her blanket from her bed as she went, the end trailing behind her.  
  
She realized she'd left her slippers behind when her bare feet touched the cold stone steps, but she walked on, hauling the blanket with her, and went down into the common room, where the fire was burning low. It cast a golden-orange light over the cheerily cluttered, over-furnished room. Thankfully, no one else was about the shadowed area, and Ginny headed with relief to a warm spot before the large fire.  
  
Ginny made herself comfortable on one of the overstuffed red sofas and leaned her head back on a gold fringed throw pillow-she closed her eyes, and then reopened them as she caught the slight scent of Harry's cologne on it. She then remembered that he'd been laying there talking to Hermione and Ron earlier about their schedules. She put her cheek against the pillow again, hesitantly, after a moment-it felt incredibly comforting- and finally drifted off to sleep, listening to the snapping of the wood in the fireplace.  
  
  
  
  
  
"The storm has ceased-all is still. The winds are hushed; the clock proclaims the hour of one. He advances…" –Varney the Vampyre, Preskett Prest 1847  
  
  
  
  
  
She had to be dreaming-she just had to be.  
  
Ginny had rolled over on the couch and briefly opened her eyes only to see that the fire had died out completely, leaving the room nearly pitch black-and a pair of unblinking blood red eyes staring down at her from the darkness.  
  
Wake up, she told herself frantically. It's just a nightmare…wake up…  
  
The eyes shimmered eerily, and she felt rather than saw arms reaching out towards her. A scream rose in her throat, but she was so petrified that she couldn't open her mouth to make a sound-she froze on the sofa, her muscles aching with fear.  
  
A cool hand brushed the skin of her cheek, and then drifted down her throat, exposed by the scooped neckline of her nightgown.  
  
Wake up, wake up, wake up-  
  
Ginny felt her skin crawl, and she closed her eyes, terrified as she felt the hand wrap around the back of her neck. Long, cold fingers pushed through the long warm curls, and then fisted there at her nape tightly. She was jerked forward so suddenly that her eyes flew open again in surprise- and then there was a blood curdling growl as the hand in her hair dragged her head back fiercely, exposing her throat-there was a burning needle like pinch at her throat-and it was too late to scream-  
  
  
  
"-With a plunge, he seizes her neck in his fang-like teeth-a gruesome sucking noise follows. The girl has swooned, and the Vampyre is at his hideous repast!" –Varney the Vampyre, Preskett Prest 1847  
  
  
  
"Wake up, Gin!"  
  
A rough hand on her shoulder shook her awake.  
  
Ginny opened her burning eyes reluctantly and looked up into her brother's freckled face. Ron's skin was still damp from having washed his face-damp tendrils of red hair tumbled across his forehead, and he had his exasperated-get up now or I'm going to tell Mum-face on. She groaned and sat up. She'd been dreaming…but she couldn't remember what about…she rubbed the side of her neck absently under her fall of hair-it ached like mad from having slept on the sofa.  
  
Her face began burning with embarrassment when she saw half the Gryffindor's standing around the common room staring at her.  
  
Ginny pulled her blanket around her shoulders and stood up, feeling oddly faint, before heading for the stairs to the girl's dorms. "What time is it?" Ginny stopped and hissed at Ron.  
  
"Breakfast time," he said pointedly, and patted his stomach.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes and turned around, only to get dreadfully dizzy and abruptly run into Harry, who had just come down.  
  
"Oops." Ginny backed away, blinking as the room spun, leaving Harry to straighten his glasses and look at her curiously.  
  
"What happened?" Harry cocked a dark eyebrow at her blanket and bare feet and ankles. Ginny felt her embarrassment grow as his eyes moved up, and then settled on her pale pink cheeks and long, unbound red curls.  
  
"I, er…I fell asleep," she mumbled, and then ducked her head and hurried up the steps.  
  
  
  
Harry looked at Ron as Ginny fled, and cleared his throat. "Why was she asleep down here?"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes and shouldered his book bag. "It's Ginny." As if that explained everything.  
  
"She looked pale-and embarrassed-is she okay?" Harry looked after her concernedly.  
  
Ron looked at Harry as if he were mad. "What are you talking about? I never thought I'd see the day when you were asking about my little sister. Didn't you get enough of her trailing you around for three years? Do you remember the singing Valentine?"  
  
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, looking annoyed. "You're point is?"  
  
"Really, Harry-if you start asking about her, or after her, she might start getting the wrong ideas again, and then you'll never get her off your back-'eyes as green as a pickled toad,'" Ron looked at him disgustedly. "Do you really want her to start back in on that?"  
  
"Look, I was just thinking that she looked upset." Harry pushed a hand through his hair and bit his lip. "I wasn't asking for her hand in marriage, you grouchy prat."  
  
"Let's get breakfast," he added before Ron could retort.  
  
"Marriage?" Ron grumbled under his breath as they left through the portrait hole, "who would ever wanna' marry Ginny?"  
  
  
  
Draco knew instantly what time it was when he woke up. He lay in his bed, the heavy dark velvet green curtains drawn; staring into the pitch darkness-it was time to get up.  
  
Morning.  
  
Draco loathed morning-it was the beginning of another day, and of late, he was not at his best during the day. It was actually the time for him to rest-if he had given way to the poison in his bloodstream, he'd be sleeping quite peacefully right now-and also be quite dead. Or was it undead?  
  
Draco pressed his hands, long, slim and pale, over his chest so he could feel the heart beat-it was still there. He woke sometimes, feeling so still and quiet, and cold, that he often felt for his heartbeat, half- afraid it would have stopped.  
  
He knew that he was an oddity-you were either a vampire, or you weren't-the vampire drank from you, and either left you to die, usually, or gave you it's blood, and you died, and became a vampire yourself. He was neither human nor Vampire-he'd gotten stuck somewhere between, of his own choice of course, but the vampire was gaining on him, coming closer every day, and the potions he was being forced to make to try and control himself while searching for a cure or antidote, were getting deadlier and deadlier- he could very well kill himself with one of those, and save himself the undead bit entirely.  
  
He could just hear what people would be saying if he managed to poison himself. Potter and Weasley would be jumping for joy, no doubt, the stupid gits.  
  
He groaned as he tried to force himself fully awake-he'd fed again; the unique coppery taste of blood still lingered on his tongue, making his whole mouth tingle, and his usually clamoring hunger was unusually and disturbingly quiet. He still had the comfort of knowing he hadn't killed anyone-if he had, he'd have been truly undead by now.  
  
Cursing out loud, he threw an arm over his eyes and tried very hard to remember where he'd been-but there was nothing. The blackouts that had become more and more frequent of late were beginning to scare him. He might be a cold bastard, but he sure as hell didn't want to go about murdering people.  
  
Well, Potter and Weasley didn't count, did they?  
  
Draco pushed the thought away and clenched his teeth in frustration.  
  
It was times like these he wanted to go find that sadistic monster that had bothered giving him back a portion of his blood, and slowly roast the creature on a spit before ripping it's bloody head off and happily shoving it up it's undead ass.  
  
A sudden thought hit him-his notes. He remembered the potions notes he'd been working on the night before in the common room and hoped fervently that no one had set their hands on them yet-  
  
"Draco?"  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, hearing Crabbe's hoarse, deep voice outside his bed curtains. "What is it?" A sharp note of impatience was in his voice- he didn't like being interrupted when he was thinking.  
  
"Uh-are you gonna` get up?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm hungry," Goyle chimed in, sounding even more devoid of thought than his companion.  
  
Draco sighed and forced his semi-hibernated body to move. He was usually hungry too-they had no idea. "You two go on-I'm getting dressed."  
  
"Ok."  
  
Draco waited until he heard them exit the room before he hesitantly opened the drapes, and then quickly drew them shut again-he hissed as his sensitive eyes ached at the sight of the dim gray light shining through the room's one, small, barred window. How many times had he told Crabbe and Goyle over the past years to make sure that damned thing was bloody covered up?  
  
It wasn't that the sunlight truly hurt-long exposure to it did, like a thousand red hot needles prickling his flesh-but it had become like a reflex for him-everything inside him curled up like a damned kicked puppy when he saw the sun. It was the first day of classes, though, and he needed to find his notes-he didn't have time to stand about and whine about his predicament.  
  
Draco set his shoulders and stubbornly pushed aside the curtains.  
  
  
  
He saw something-or rather, someone-at breakfast that morning that made his fangs slide down and nearly pierce his own tongue-Ginny Weasley.  
  
Draco ran his tongue over the aching fangs, fighting against an instant rise in his hunger as he eyed her silky flow of dark, almost blood red curls, and the fiery red highlights in them. It was funny how the colors had changed after he'd been bitten. Where her hair had been a just plain mad orange color before, it had changed, become darker, more alluring… it was those curls that had so caught his attention last year- just the sight of them had made his bloodlust rage out of control-that and the sight and scent of her blood on her pale, perfect white forearm. He'd had to leave the hall before he'd taken a nasty bite right out of her. She hadn't come near him if she could help it since, but it hadn't made things easier for him. Quite the opposite actually; the smell of her fear was so strong whenever he was near that it made her almost irresistible.  
  
Hot saliva flooded his mouth as he watched her, and his tongue fairly ached for a taste of her…she looked so frail, so small and innocent and fresh-he caught sight of Potter glaring at him from where he sat next to her, and fought back the urge to go and rip his throat out.  
  
Draco tucked his shaking hands beneath the table and forced himself to look away, wondering at the feeling of possessiveness he felt-and over a common Weasley. He shook his head, staring at the food growing cold on his golden plate. This was it then-he was finally going truly mad, completely nutters, utterly bonkers, just plain around the bend mad.  
  
Disgust at his lack of control made him furious, and he had to leave the table before he finally broke down and bit one of his confused looking Housemates out of pure frustration.  
  
He headed up to his first class, studiously avoiding any large, particularly bright patches of sunlight as he passed along the corridors.  
  
Why was he fighting it so hard? Why didn't he just give up the struggle? It would have overtaken a lesser man by now, he knew-his father's insistence on self-control had come in handy more than once over the past few years. But honestly, why was he fighting so hard? Would it be so bad? Why couldn't he just say, "Hey, I was hungry, so I ate," end of story?  
  
Because it wouldn't end there, he knew. If he gave in, if he killed, everything he'd known would be gone. Everything he was, and could have been would be completely, irretrievably gone. The thirst would become worse, he'd never be satiated, and he'd become a near mindless unfeeling monster in his constant quest for it.  
  
Draco paused before a full-length mirror as he walked along a second floor hallway, and grinned at his pale, perfect, wickedly handsome reflection in the mirror. The female voice in the mirror complimented him throatily, and he smirked at himself slightly before striding on, feeling a bit more like his old self.  
  
No, he wouldn't give in-and he'd have to find a way to keep himself out of trouble during the blackouts until he could find a cure. And he would find a bloody cure. After all-what would the world be like without Draco Malfoy?  
  
  
  
TBC 


	3. 3 A Curious Ailment

Author: Lee Velviet  
  
E-Mail: Vampslay@Bellsouth.net  
  
Disclaimer: You know who this stuff belongs to-J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc-I own absolutely nothing-except maybe the stupid plot! ^-^ Don't blame that on her! (I Love You, J.K.! ^-^)  
  
(A/N: Okay, I know this chapter is…odd. It just seemed to go that way. Let me know what you guys think. If I get lots of bad reviews, I'll rewrite it. Thanks for reading! ^-^)  
  
  
  
3. A Curious Ailment  
  
  
  
"Tonight is the full of the moon-and the night is near at hand."-Varney The Vampire, Or The Feast Of Blood, Preskett Prest, 1847  
  
  
  
Ginny didn't know how she'd made it through the day. It had been both grim and evil.  
  
She collapsed, exhausted onto the sofa she'd slept on the night before, and closed her eyes.  
  
Honestly, would it have killed the Professor to act like a real human being for just once? He'd snapped at her time and again in class that day, until she hadn't known up from down and was trembling with nerves.  
  
And Malfoy…. could he have acted any creepier? It had seemed like every time she turned around, he'd been standing there, staring at her. She saw in her mind again his eerie, pale gaze narrowing on her as he watched her walk by from across the courtyard earlier, and quickly re-opened her eyes.  
  
"Ginny? Are you all right?"  
  
She looked over and blinked, disoriented, and she noticed she'd practically thrown herself into Harry's lap without realizing it.  
  
"Er-sorry…" Ginny bit her lip and edged away from him.  
  
"What's wrong? You look pale…still. You were pale this morning…" He frowned at her, closing the book on his lap and setting it aside. "Maybe I should walk you up to the Infirmary."  
  
"I'm fine, really…" Ginny yawned, and rubbed her eyes. She stretched and winced at the bruised feeling in her neck.  
  
Harry suddenly caught her shoulder, and forced her arm down as she reached to rub the sore area.  
  
"Harry!" Ginny protested.  
  
His green eyes looked fierce and determined as he lifted the thick fall of her hair from her shoulder and pushed her chin to one side, exposing her throat.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ginny felt the warmth of his fingertips slide across the sensitive skin of her throat and winced.  
  
She heard Harry take in a shuddering, surprised breath, and then he released her.  
  
Ginny turned a frown on him as she raised a hand to her throat.  
  
"What is it?" The look on his face scared her-his narrowed eyes were glued to her throat, and they were a chilling, icy green.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Just-stay here…lay back and relax for a second…I'll be right back."  
  
Shivering, Ginny did as he said-but only because she couldn't sit up any longer.  
  
Harry returned with Ron and Hermione moments later.  
  
Ron had a dark look on his freckled face as he dropped to one knee next to her and eyed her neck. Hermione looked over his shoulder and her face paled.  
  
"Ginny!"  
  
She blinked in confusion as her brother hauled her into his arms and hugged her tightly.  
  
"Ron-what's happening?" Ron was not a hugger.  
  
"You're scaring me!" The note of panic in her voice made Ron let her go and back away to look at her hesitantly.  
  
"Gin-do you know where those… marks on your neck came from?"  
  
"M-marks?" Her hand flew up to touch her skin. "What marks?"  
  
She leapt up to go and find a mirror and had to sit right back down as her head spun.  
  
"Have you eaten anything?" Hermione sat next to her and put an arm across her shoulders to steady her.  
  
Ginny took several deep breaths. "No, I wasn't hungry."  
  
"I think we should take her to Madam Pomfrey," said Ron shakily.  
  
"No!" Ginny looked up at them wild-eyed. "Please-I just want to go to bed- I'm so tired…"  
  
"Gin…"  
  
"Please Ron? I know I'll be fine in the morning-I just really need some sleep."  
  
  
  
She looked at him pathetically-it was the look she used back home to get him to  
  
give her the last waffle at breakfast…and it had always worked.  
  
Ron exchanged a look with Harry and sighed roughly. "All right…Hermione?"  
  
Hermione nodded as if in instant understanding. "I'll stay with you tonight, Ginny-just incase you need me."  
  
"Okay," At that moment she would have given anything to just get to the bathroom mirror.  
  
As she turned to leave, she heard Ron pull Hermione aside and whisper something into her ear.  
  
Harry just stared at her. She looked away from him, feeling oddly guilty.  
  
Ginny walked up the stairs with Hermione slowly, her pulse beating in her ears loudly.  
  
  
  
Hermione left her at the entrance to the fifth year girl's dormitories. "You go on and get ready for bed-I'm just going to go fetch my toothbrush-all right?"  
  
Ginny nodded dumbly and let herself into the dorm. The large room was deserted, it still being early in the evening, and she was never more thankful for the privacy. She dragged off her school robes, and laid her wand across them on the trunk at the foot of her bed.  
  
She walked slowly into the bathroom with a strong feeling of unreality, and approached a mirror with a thundering heart.  
  
She looked ghastly. Her eyes looked fever bright, but sunken, resting in two dark circles in her paper white face. She watched herself as she swallowed, and licked her lips as she turned her head slightly and lifted her hair from her neck-  
  
Her heart felt like it might explode against her ribs when she spied the two dark, angry looking puncture wounds in her throat, inches below her right ear. Just looking at them seemed to make her neck hurt more…the wounds throbbed angrily, and the picture of a pair of glittering crimson eyes flashed through her mind, nearly scaring her senseless, making her doubt her sanity…  
  
A knock on the door made her nerves jump agonizingly. "Ginny?" It was Hermione.  
  
"I'm okay…I'll just be a minute." She watched herself in the mirror with raising panic. What had happened to her?  
  
"All right-I sent Ron to get us something to eat from the kitchens-I didn't think you'd want to go down to dinner."  
  
The thought of food made her stomach churn. "Okay, thanks."  
  
Ginny touched the wounds again with a morbid curiosity. She forced herself to look at them closely, and tried to convince herself that they weren't that bad-she'd fallen on something, was all. There'd been a sharp quill in the sofa cushions, yes, that's what it was…and she'd managed to jab herself with it deeply, twice, in the same area…  
  
"Oh, God," Ginny murmured, going directly into a stall and sitting down on the commode. She was fairly sure she would have been ill if there'd been anything in her stomach.  
  
She had her face buried in her hands when the scratching noise came from outside the bathroom window…  
  
Horrified, Ginny got up and dashed out of the room as quickly as she could move, before her body had a chance to freeze up in fear.  
  
Hermione was sitting on her bed, and looked up at her approach. She stood to grab her by the arms and lower her to the bed. "Ginny, you look like you just ran into a Mountain Troll," she exclaimed, and Ginny found this funny- Hermione would certainly know, wouldn't she?  
  
"T-there was something-" Ginny bit her lip and looked away. They were going to think she was crazy-she'd been hearing things. It had probably been a-a tree branch, or a wayward Post Owl, or something-  
  
"Yes?" Hermione looked at her seriously, still gripping her upper arms. "Did you see something?"  
  
"No-I just thought I heard something…I'm just tired." She pulled her shoes off with a shaking hand and pulled her nightshirt from underneath her pillow.  
  
"You can tell me anything, you know that don't you?"  
  
Ginny looked up to see her friend watching her concernedly.  
  
"I know."  
  
Hermione helped her into her nightshirt without another word, and pulled Ginny's blankets up around her, smoothing them. It made Ginny feel better, almost like she was a little girl safe at home with her Mum again, dreaming of the day she could finally attend Hogwarts.  
  
It hadn't exactly turned out to be what she had dreamed of-she'd struggled through the past years, and now, it seemed she'd be struggling through this one.  
  
Suddenly she wanted her Mother's presence more than anything in the whole world. Her eyes stung with tears of self-pity, and she closed her eyes. 'Get a hold of yourself, Ginny,' she thought in frustration. 'You're sixteen years old!'  
  
Hermione was uncharacteristically quiet, only patting her arm soothingly until there was a knock on the dormitory door, and Ron stuck his head in.  
  
"I brought some dinner, Gin," he said, bringing in a tray.  
  
Ginny wrinkled er nose as he sat it down before her. "Ron-you know I don't like a lot of red meat." Her plate was full of roast beef and gravy, potatoes and steak-lots of steak.  
  
Harry walked in behind Ron then, hesitantly, his hands in his pockets, his hair badly ruffled. "You need some iron, Ginny…lack of it is probably what made you faint."  
  
"Oh." She didn't like thinking about why he was talking about the state of her blood, and so simply thanked her brother for going to the trouble, and reluctantly picked up her fork. She poked the meat, grimacing at the pinkness of it…but then was suddenly, inexplicably ravenous.  
  
She was oblivious to the looks her three companions exchanged, as they watched her devour nearly all the meat piled on her plate.  
  
She felt better after she'd eaten, and she actually got up and returned bravely to the bathroom to brush and floss before settling into her bed for the night. Of course it was much easier that knowing large two boys were just outside.  
  
She crawled into her bed, wondering why Ron and Harry were so intent on staying-and they did, sitting with her, playing chess on the end of the bed, saying things to try and make her laugh, until the other girls came and wanted to go to sleep, and practically had to throw them out.  
  
Hermione curled up under the covers on the other side of the huge bed and Ginny soon fell fast asleep, still confused and frightened, but too tired to care.  
  
  
  
"All was still-still as the very grave. Not a sound breaks the magic of repose-but it was, in very truth, an awful night." –Varney The Vampire, Preskett Prest, 1847  
  
  
  
  
  
The side of her neck felt as though an Ashwinder had curled up to nest on it.  
  
Ginny rolled over and sleepily pressed a hand to the inflamed feeling area. She had the stray thought that the wounds were probably infected, and then sat up slowly.  
  
The room was silent, and she could hear nothing save the breathing of the other girls in the room.  
  
She held her aching neck gingerly, and slid off the bed, feeling fuzzy. She silently made her way into the bathroom and looked at her neck again in the lamplight-the marks were still there.  
  
  
  
Ginny forced away the urge to cry and splashed some cool water on the wounds.  
  
She was ready to go back to her bed when the same scratching noise she'd heard earlier came at the window.  
  
Suddenly angry, Ginny marched right over to the ancient stained glass window, flicked open the antique silver latch, and pushed the window open, letting in the soft breeze of the night.  
  
She almost shrieked when she saw Draco Malfoy directly outside-but she was too scared to make more than a squeak.  
  
  
  
The cool breeze swept his moonlit hair across his eyes, shadowing them-he didn't say a word.  
  
She was having a nightmare. She was waking up now…waking up…  
  
Finally Ginny took a deep breath and tried to glare at him. " Er…Malfoy…you're floating."  
  
He seemed to wake up a little at the sound of her voice. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and blinked at her-then he looked down before crossing his arms and sighing. "So I am."     
  
  
  
" -Her eyes are fascinated. The glance of a serpent could not have produced a greater effect upon her than did the fixed gaze of those awful, metallic- looking eyes that were bent down on her face. Her bosom heaves, and her limbs tremble, yet she cannot withdraw her eyes from that marble-looking face. He holds her with his glittering eye…" –Varney The Vampire, Preskett Prest, 1847  
  
  
  
  
  
Ginny wanted to slam the window shut and run screaming-but everything about the situation was so ridiculous, she wasn't quite sure what to do.  
  
  
  
"What are you doing here?" It seemed the most obvious question to ask.  
  
  
  
He seemed to get an odd glint in his eye at this. "I don't think you want to know," he finally drawled heavily.  
  
"Is this some kind of joke?" Ginny rubbed her neck again, trying to soothe the burn she felt there.  
  
She watched as his eyes followed her every movement, turning darker and darker…  
  
"Decidedly not. I wish it were as simple as that," he muttered, and she saw him close his eyes.  
  
"I'm in no mood for jokes, Malfoy-"  
  
His eyes snapped violently open making her gasp and jump back. "Do I look like I'm bloody joking, Weasley?" He snarled.  
  
"You're eyes…" Ginny grabbed her throat and backed away.  
  
His eyes were red-no, not just red, but a hot and glowing blood red…  
  
He smirked at her as his brows drew low, and she saw sharp white fangs curving to needle-like points brushing his lower lip.  
  
  
  
"What h-happened to you?" Ginny kept backing away, but he simply followed.  
  
  
  
"What the hell do you think happened?" He snapped impatiently, his red eyes shimmering angrily in the pallor of his face. His usually combed back hair fell softly around his face, and he brushed a silken strand away impatiently. "I got bitten, you fool."  
  
Ginny wrapped a hand around a sink to keep from falling over. "B-bitten? By what? A Vampire?"  
  
He stepped onto the floor easily, and stopped a few feet from her. "No, by a bloodsucking Flobberworm…can't you tell?"  
  
"C-could you just…go away, now?" Ginny knew she had to be dreaming-Draco Malfoy was not in her bathroom sporting fangs and red eyes, and an unusual new sense of humor.  
  
"What? After all the trouble I obviously went through to get up here? You aren't the hospitable sort, are you Weasley?" He took several steps closer, and Ginny was backed against the door, his tall, black robed figure dominating the small room.  
  
"I should go-you did me a favor waking me up…but since I'm here…"  
  
Ginny's head was spinning. Waking him up? "What do you want from me? Why are you here?"  
  
He took hold of her upper arms tightly so she couldn't move.  
  
She was so busy staring at his eyes that it didn't occur to her to scream. They had a sparkly iridescent sheen that drew her gaze and made her mind oddly foggy…  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" And then, he murmured, almost as if to himself, "I hadn't any idea it was you I visited last night-it's no wonder I've had such a hard-on to see you all day…"  
  
He laughed humorlessly at her dazed look. "Oh, come on, Weasley-you don't suppose those little holes in your neck just appeared there all by themselves, did you?"  
  
Malfoy leaned in, until she could feel his cool, hard jaw pressing against hers. "I'm sorry, pet…but I'm rather in a bad way...you don't mind, do you?"  
  
She shivered uncontrollably as his breath brushed her ear, and one arm dropped curl about to her waist-she felt helpless to do anything at all…his lips touched the side of her neck, and she closed her eyes as she felt his mouth open over the tiny marks that suddenly felt on fire. His tongue soothed the uncomfortable burn, and Ginny sighed, relaxing against him as he pulled her body closer. Her head fell to one side, and he sighed against her skin in a way that made her weak, made her want to do anything he wanted her to…  
  
"Yes, relax," he whispered. "Just let me take you, Ginny…I just need to taste you…so very, very badly…"  
  
  
  
Ginny felt her racing heart pick up speed painfully as he murmured her name- vaguely she realized she hadn't even thought he'd even known it.  
  
Wait-what had he said? Taste her?  
  
Oh God-  
  
Ginny realized his intention too late and didn't have the breath to cry out as he suddenly buried his fangs in her tender throat.  
  
The blackness behind her eyelids turned gray, she barely felt the pain after a moment. Her fingers brushed his robes, and then his hand-he brushed his cool fingers along her palm before entwining them with hers and raising their clasped hands to press against his chest. She felt his heart pounding fiercely against her hand.  
  
The feel of his tongue moving against her skin again made her head spin—and spin, and spin and finally she didn't feel anything but Draco Malfoy…  
  
  
  
   "The bed in that old chamber is occupied. A creature formed in all fashions of loveliness lies half sleep upon that ancient couch-a girl young and beautiful as a spring morning.  
  
Her long hair has escaped from its confinement and streams over the blackened coverings of the bedstead; she has been restless in her sleep, for the clothing of the bed is in much confusion. One arm is over her head, the other hangs nearly off the side of the bed near to which she lies. A neck and bosom that would have formed a study for the rarest sculptor that ever Providence gave genius to, were half disclosed. How sweetly the long silken eyelashes lay upon the cheek.  
  
Now she moves, and one shoulder is entirely visible-whiter, fairer than the spotless clothing of the bed on which she lies, is the smooth skin of that fair creature, just budding into womanhood, and in that transition state which presents to us all the charms of the girl-almost of the child, with the more matured beauty and gentleness of advancing years.  
  
She has endured much fatigue… Now she awakens-that beautiful girl on the antique bed; she opens her eyes, and a faint cry of alarm bursts from her lips..." –Varney The Vampire, Preskett Prest, 1847  
  
  
  
Ginny awoke with a start.  
  
It was morning. She could see the light pouring in around the bed curtains, and looked over to see that Hermione had already risen.  
  
She sighed and rolled over, breathing deeply. She had the feeling that she had been dreaming again-and for some reason, she was sad that she had woken up, but also strangely relieved.  
  
Ginny stretched, and then frowned, looking down as she felt her nightshirt fall free against her skin-the buttons on the front had all disappeared, and it gaped, falling off one shoulder as she sat up.  
  
Slightly embarrassed, she drew it up, and then held the edges together as she scooted off the bed, parting the curtains, and stood, wincing at the sunlight pouring cheerily through the bay window-the strange dizziness that had been plaguing her returned full force, and she lay back down with a frustrated sigh, to wait for it to pass.  
  
The other occupants of the room had already left, and she thought it must have been rather late in the morning.  
  
The door opened, and Ginny turned her head to see Hermione walk in. She had another tray in her hands.  
  
"Morning," she mumbled, unable to put much inflection into her voice.  
  
"Good morning," Hermione pushed her hair behind her ear and came over to sit next to her. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Much better," she lied.  
  
"I'm glad…" Hermione's naturally inquisitive eyes kept straying to where Ginny's hair tumbled down over her shoulder. "Well…you better eat something. Classes start soon."  
  
"Oh…" she barely held back a groan. How was she going to make it through another day? Just the thought of having to face Snape again-  
  
"Unless, of course, you aren't up to it-I could always take you up to the Infirmary-"  
  
"No!" Ginny looked down at the tray on her lap and swallowed. "I'm fine. I'll just eat and get dressed…"  
  
Hermione looked doubtful. "Sure…er…did anything-weird happen last night?"  
  
"What?" She looked over at the older girl with a furrowed brow. "No…I slept all night. Why?"  
  
"Oh, I just wondered…never mind me." Her friend smiled and stood. "I'm going to go on-will you be all right?"  
  
"Of course." Ginny caught at Hermione's hand. "Thank you, for staying last night."  
  
"You bet." She bent and gave her a swift hug before turning and leaving the room.  
  
Ginny looked down at the carefully prepared breakfast tray and forced herself to drink some orange juice. There was bacon and eggs, sausage and hot buttered strawberry scones…those usually made her mouth water, but she couldn't drudge up an interest in the fluffy things that morning.  
  
After nibbling at the bacon and sausage, she put down her fork and put the tray aside. She stood, and the dizziness did return, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had been.  
  
She went into the bathroom, feeling very hesitant, and then came out and dressed with care, making sure her tie was knotted neatly, her hair was in some semblance of order, her shoes clean, and her robes unwrinkled-she had no desire to look at the marks on her throat-she didn't want to think about the mysterious things. They would eventually heal, and until then she would simply forget about them-or at least try to. The side of her neck throbbed like the very devil with every beat of her pulse, and no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, it did scare her a bit.  
  
She gathered up her things, and pulled open the door, walking slowly until she came into the common room.  
  
Ron was there, waiting, as were Harry and Hermione. They looked troubled.  
  
"Hey," Ginny came flush with them and smiled. "You guys ready?"  
  
"Ginny, we want to talk to you, later." Ron said quickly. "Could you meet us in the Library? After dinner?"  
  
"Okay…" She looked at them questioningly. "What is it?"  
  
"We'll explain it to you tonight," Hermione said carelessly. "It's nothing important-just meet us there, all right?"  
  
"Sure." Ginny fixed Harry with a curious stare, and after a moment he dropped his eyes quickly.  
  
"How are you feeling?" He asked his shoes.  
  
Ginny laughed. "I'm fine-we'd better go, or we'll be late."  
  
"A pity, that," Ron said, mock mournfully as they moved out the entrance and into the hall. "I'd hate to have to miss Divination."  
  
"Do you know that nutty old bat actually told me I had no future yesterday?" Harry exclaimed in an extremely offended tone.  
  
"You know she says that at least ten thousand times a year," Ron said scornfully. "Honestly, Harry, if I had a Galleon for every time she said you were going to kick off-"  
  
Ginny listened to them talk as they moved down the corridors, and felt a little better-she watched Harry smile and laugh at something Ron said, and grinned back at him when he caught her eye and winked.  
  
Yes, the day was certainly looking up.  
  
  
  
TBC  
  
  
  
(A/N: I hope you liked this-let me know what you think! Don't forget to review you guys! I'd really really really really appreciate it! Thanks so much for reading! ^-^) 


	4. 4 A Grim Discovery

(A/N: This chapter is especially dedicated to those reviewers who have waited so long for it - I'm sorry it's taken so long!!! My life has been insane lately - people won't leave me aloooone, so I can wriiite! ::whines:: Also - it's getting a bit - ahem - 'adult' I'll say, for lack of a better word. Nothing heavy but I'd probably up the rating on this chapter to 'R' at least - you've been warned!!! ^-^ Anyway, hope you like! Thanks! Lee)  
  
~***~  
  
4. A Grim Discovery  
  
~***~  
  
"Who's there?" Ginny paused as she walked into the library later that evening.  
  
The place had seemed to be deserted - even the torches and lamps had been either extinguished, or turned down - a shuffling noise behind the stacks had startled her, and drawn her attention.  
  
"Just me, Ginny.who did you think it was?" As she watched, Harry stepped out from behind one of the bookcases, his black robes discarded, his sleeves pushed back. He moved toward her, his eyes steady on her, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets.  
  
"Noone, really." she frowned, and narrowed her brown eyes - something wasn't right. Harry looked worried.  
  
"You really have no idea what's going on, do you?" Harry shook his head, his green eyes concerned.  
  
"W - what are you talking about? What is it?" Ginny brought a hand up to her throat without even realizing it.  
  
"Ron, Hermione."  
  
Ginny turned slightly as her brother and Hermione appeared beside her, both wearing looks of worry and concern identical to Harry's.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
Ron stepped forward, and took her gently by the arms.  
  
"Those bites, Gin - the ones on your neck.you've had Defense Against the Dark Arts - you know what made them - "  
  
"Are you mad?" Ginny tried to twist of her brother's grasp, her heart thudding wildly. It had been such a good day - why was it suddenly turning into such a nightmare?  
  
"It's a vampire, Gin - here in Hogwarts.don't you see?" Ron's blue eyes were hard, searching hers as he gave her a little shake. "You've been bitten!"  
  
Her throat closed up, and her eyes darted to those of a slightly frightened Hermione, whose own pleaded with her.  
  
"Oh, God."Ginny slid down to sit on the floor, panic and realization making her knees weak. It was true then, the suspicion that had been there at the back of her mind -  
  
"This is what you wanted to talk to me about," she said slowly, staring at the parquetry of the wooden floor.  
  
Harry kneeled beside her, his expression tense. "Yes - we didn't want to scare you, earlier.we weren't quite sure what to do, then, either.but we know now - and we aren't going to let him touch you again, Ginny."  
  
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and she looked up at his intense eyes, feeling scared and tired.  
  
"You promise, Harry?"  
  
"I promise," he whispered solemnly, his voice not quite steady.  
  
She threw her arms around his neck, and finally released the sobs she'd been holding back. "I - I was scared - I thought I was g - going mad! I don't remember it - hardly any of it! I just keep getting these feelings, seeing these flashes, these glowing eyes in my memory.oh, God.it was real, all of it!"  
  
Harry's arms closed around her hesitantly, as she cried into his shirtfront.  
  
"It's going to be all right, Ginny," Ron said from behind her, his voice quiet.  
  
"We'll take care of you," added Hermione, her voice determined.  
  
Ginny didn't say anything more - she was frozen nearly numb with fear.  
  
Something had been drinking her blood.  
  
~***~  
  
"Yes, the midnight lamp has burned 'till the glorious sun has reached the horizon, and brings back the day, and yet have I been found beside my books." - V.V. 1847  
  
Draco cursed in frustration, sweeping a hand along the desk in the deserted potions classroom, and knocking everything on it to the floor with a loud crash.  
  
He ignored the waning moonlight streaming into the room through the windows behind him, and dug his nails into his palms, clenching his teeth against the lengthening of his fangs.  
  
He'd been a bloody fool, feeding from the girl the night before - there was something about her that made him want to take more and more each time he drank from her.if he couldn't do something soon, he'd end up sucking her dry.  
  
Draco covered his eyes with a shaky hand, resting the other on the desk to steady himself. Since when did he care about the fate of a worthless Weasley brat? He'd be doing her family a favor, removing the need to feed yet another mouth.  
  
He was kidding himself.  
  
Ginny Weasley had the sweetest, hottest blood he'd ever tasted - and he wanted more.  
  
Actually, he was surprised to acknowledge, he wanted all of her - everything she had to give. Wanted it so badly he suddenly doubted his ability to control himself at all.  
  
Her red hair was beautiful, and her skin was pale and white and had tasted as sweet as spun sugar beneath his tongue.  
  
Hunger gnawed his insides, and he closed his eyes, swallowing as he remembered how she had tasted, how willing and responsive she'd become in his arms -  
  
The potion, you fool, concentrate on the potion.  
  
Draco furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate as he retrieved his book, and pawed through his meticulously written notes.  
  
After a long while, he became very still, lowering himself to his seat, and allowing his head to bow momentarily.  
  
He suddenly felt incredibly tired, and weary. He was so sick of fighting.he'd hit a brick wall in his research, nothing was revealing itself, nothing that would help him any further, anyway.  
  
Draco smiled darkly, and rose, absently running a tongue across his aching fangs.  
  
Perhaps it was time to let someone in on his secret - someone who had a great and vast knowledge of potions.  
  
~***~  
  
"You incredibly stupid, silly boy - why haven't you come to me before this? I knew you were always on about something, but this - you've managed to hide it well,"  
  
Draco stood silent before the fireplace in Professor Snape's chambers, watching the flames with a kind of dark fascination, seeing Ginny's red locks.  
  
His teacher moved around the room behind him, gathering books, and materials, making clattering noises and cursing below his breath.  
  
"These notes of yours - let's see them," the dark haired man snapped, and Draco smirked mirthlessly, digging the worn book from his robes.  
  
"They're worthless," he pointed out carelessly, watching Snape flip through the worn pages. "I can't go any further - the blackouts are getting worse, becoming more frequent.and I can't increase the potency - I'll only end up poisoning myself, you see."  
  
Snape was looking at the scrawled writing, looking grudgingly impressed. He finally closed the book, and handed it back to Draco with a muscle twitching in his jaw.  
  
"You're right."  
  
Draco arched a brow, one corner of his lips rising slightly. He looked down at the leather bound book in his hands and tossed it unceremoniously into the fire.  
  
"That's it, then."  
  
The cold, dark room was silent for a long moment. The fire snapped, and Draco again turned to stare at the glowing embers.  
  
"You give up too easily, boy," Snape commented sneeringly from behind him. "I merely agreed that you could go no further with the formula you concocted. I said nothing about not being able to help you."  
  
Draco's head snapped up, and he turned on the man, eyes flashing red over silver. "Give up? Give up?" He snarled, slowly advancing on the man. "I've been fighting this - this curse, for over six years! Speak to me again about 'giving up', and teacher or no, I'll rip your bloody throat out!"  
  
"You should have come to me with this in the very beginning," said Snape harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you?"  
  
Draco prowled before the fire, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right, professor - I'd have been sent off, killed - no one would have believed that I was trying to fight it. It'd have been a nightmare. My family would have disowned me, my life would have been over - and Potter and his brood would have been ecstatic! No, I wasn't going to let any of that happen."  
  
"Well.it's fairly obvious you haven't killed."  
  
"Yet," added Draco forebodingly.  
  
"How have you been feeding, then?"  
  
Again, he smirked, meeting the professor's dark eyes steadily.  
  
"Nipping a bit here and there - not so much that anyone will miss it.did I add I've become quite proficient in the use of memory charms? Not to mention the fact that most people find my looks and eyes positively hypnotizing."  
  
Snape shook his head at the arrogance in the boy's voice.  
  
"It's a dangerous game you've been playing at, boy. Do you have any inkling of how close you've come to killing, I wonder? The power in your little finger at this very moment could snap someone's neck."  
  
"And yet you continue to question me," murmured Draco in a deceptively soft tone.  
  
"Is that a threat, boy? You may be powerful, but you forget, I'm a fully trained wizard - it wouldn't take much to incinerate your heart where it lays in your chest," snarled Snape.  
  
Draco laughed shortly, revealing the sharp tips of his fangs.  
  
"You really want to die, don't you,' he observed with cold humor.  
  
Snape cursed and turned away to retrieve his books. "The least you can do is come and help me search."  
  
Draco shook his head, eyes glowing with a strange light. "Later, Professor - I have to go feed. Don't bother offering your wrist - I doubt even a dragon could bite through that tough hide of yours.besides, I have a much more tasty bit in mind." He walked to the door, waiting for the older man to try and stop him.  
  
All he heard was, "Do try not to kill anyone, Malfoy - I don't relish the idea of having to tell your father I had to slay you."  
  
Draco said nothing, and silently disappeared out the door.  
  
~***~  
  
Ginny woke from her troubled sleep with a gasp.  
  
'It' was near - she could feel it.  
  
In the dark dormitory, she could feel coldness seeping towards her, and her body froze beneath her blankets.  
  
No, please, no.  
  
She tried to open her mouth to scream, to move, and wake up Hermione who slept soundly beside her, or Harry and Ron who lay in wait outside the door - but she couldn't move, she was frozen with fear.  
  
A tall, dark form took shape in the black shadows near her bed - familiar silvery eyes with a terrifying, incandescent red sheen appeared, looking down at her calmly.  
  
Finally, Ginny found her voice - but by then it was too late, and the vampire was on her - and Hermione slept on, blissfully oblivious to the scene taking place on the floor next to the bed.  
  
Ginny found herself on her back on the cold stone floor, looking up as the dark creature pinned her down. All she could see were those red eyes, watching her from the pitch - blackness.  
  
Cool, smooth lips touched hers, and her eyes closed suddenly at the fire racing through her veins.  
  
What was this? What was happening to her?  
  
Ginny moaned slightly in her throat, and Hermione moved in the bed above her, in her sleep.  
  
Chilled fingertips danced across her throat, and inside her nightgown, to trail over her collar bone, and trace the rounded of top of one warm, delicate breast.  
  
Goosebumps sprang up all over Ginny's skin, and it had nothing to do with fear, or the cold.  
  
She went limp against him, and he released her hands, which he'd pinned above her head, to lower his other hand to run along her slim ribcage, protected by nothing more than the thin cloth of her gown.  
  
His mouth left hers, and trailed along her jaw line, to her ear, as he ran a thumb across her nipple.  
  
She moved against him restlessly, sighing.  
  
"Ginny."  
  
She melted in his arms, letting her head fall to the side, so that her slim white throat was exposed.  
  
The soft lips left her ear, feeling warmer now, and skimmed across her skin, below her ear.  
  
They opened against her, and she gasped, stiffening, her eyes flying wide as she felt two sharp points against her tender skin.  
  
The creature laughed silently, and raised its head to look at her, the red eyes seeming to strip her bare.  
  
She looked up at them helplessly, both wanting something she couldn't describe, and to cry out in terror.  
  
A palm on her jaw turned her head to the side again, and she let it, closing her eyes against the guilt she felt.  
  
His lips were on her throat again in an instant, and she arched, and bit her cheek as she felt the burning sting of the needle like fangs sinking in deeply.  
  
She felt weightless as she brought her hands to the back of his head, sifting sleek, silky soft hair through her fingers as his teeth and tongue worked hungrily at her neck.  
  
Ginny shivered, and he pulled her against him fiercely, possessively.  
  
She lost the strength in her arms, and her hands slid from his hair, to his shoulders, and then to the cold, hard floor beside her.  
  
She drifted to sleep, still feeling the velvety softness of his lips against her, his name a sigh on her lips as she finally realized who he was.  
  
"Draco."  
  
~***~  
  
Draco pulled away from her with an immense effort as she sighed his name - it was then that all hell broke loose.  
  
"Ron! Harry!"  
  
He got to his feet, sneering down on Hermione, who had woken and shrieked upon seeing his shadow and red eyes in the rapidly lightening darkness.  
  
Girl's in the other beds all around him started to scream - and the door flew open with enough force to tear it from it's hinges as Ron Weasley and Harry Potter stormed in, armed with their wands.  
  
Draco snarled and backed away to the window he'd entered through, disappearing, just as the dawn broke pink and orange on the horizon.  
  
~***~  
  
Ginny slept through it all - Harry and Ron, and Hermione discovering her cold and pallid, her neck red and bruised, the delicate skin cruelly broken, as she lay on the floor, the cry that went up from the other girls, and a sleepy, obviously un - happy McGonagall sweeping in moments later, and looking at her, horrified.  
  
~***~  
  
TBC 


	5. 5 A Shocking Proposal

Disclaimer: Don't own it!  
  
5. A Shocking Proposal  
  
~***~  
  
"- Whilst skies are blue and bright, Whilst flowers are gay, Whilst eyes that change ere night Make glad the day, Whilst yet the calm hours creep, Dream thou - and from thy sleep Then wake to weep." - Mutability, III, Percy B. Shelley  
  
~***~  
  
Lethargic.  
  
The single word seemed to have become the center around which her whole world revolved.  
  
Her limbs were sluggish, her thoughts tangled, her very breaths weary.  
  
Ginny knew she lay on a bed in the Infirmary, knew there were people surrounding her, speaking to her, but she couldn't open her eyes.  
  
She was aware of time passing, of light and dark as the world passed from day into night, and still she couldn't gather enough strength to move.  
  
She slept for long periods of time, but it only seemed to serve in making her even more exhausted.  
  
At last even the gray darkness behind her eyes began to fade into absolute darkness, and she knew, even in her mindless stupor, that something was horribly, terribly wrong with her.  
  
~***~  
  
"Death comes once, let it be easy." -Carl Sandburg  
  
~***~  
  
Draco sat in the deserted Potions classroom, staring unthinkingly at the faded print of the open book on the desk before him.  
  
He had two options.  
  
He could leave Hogwarts, go far away and try to continue his search for a cure - or he could stay, and let Snape destroy him, and be done with it.  
  
Because Ginny Weasley was up in the Infirmary, slowly dying.  
  
When the thread of life the girl was hanging on to snapped, he'd turn into that slavering creature of his nightmares, and no one could help him.  
  
Ginny.  
  
She'd been nothing to him, and yet he'd had to have felt something for her, to have allowed himself to lose his strict control, to become completely irrational; and rational thought was a luxury for him, now - at any moment in time it would become non - existent, a thing of the past.  
  
A ripple of warning ran across his skin.  
  
Snape had come in, unerringly stealthy, and was behind him, even now, contemplating his destruction, he knew.  
  
It seemed his decision had already been made for him.  
  
A humorless smile tugged at his lips as he lifted his eyes to look at the wall before him.  
  
"Well, come on, get it over with, Professor. Or are you going to stand there and stare at my back all night?"  
  
Draco's sensitive hearing caught the man's very slight, startled movement, the almost imperceptible quickly indrawn breath.  
  
He closed the book slowly, but didn't turn to face him.  
  
"Look, I'll make it easy for you - you won't even have to look me in the eyes."  
  
He could feel the man's indecision, almost smell his guilt.  
  
"Come, Professor - this isn't like you. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost swear you were scared of me."  
  
His cold, low, mocking tone caused a discernable change in the emotions coming off the older man.  
  
'Good', he thought, steeling himself for the inevitable, 'get angry. Get bloody furious - and get it the hell over with.'  
  
His muscles tightened across his back and shoulders as he felt Snape draw nearer.  
  
A loud crash made him instinctively move, and he jumped up, vaulting across the desk to crouch near the wall, his senses screaming danger, nearly driving him into a frenzy.  
  
The door had been thrown open.  
  
"No! You can't kill him!"  
  
The loud, panicked shout hurt his ears. He blinked, and focused his red veiled gaze on the new occupant of the room.  
  
It was Granger.  
  
He should have known she'd figure it out - she'd probably heard Ginny say his name.  
  
Draco tensed, waiting angrily for Potter and Weasley to come bursting in behind her, looking self - righteous and more than willing to land an overlarge splinter in his chest.  
  
He cursed Snape's momentary show of weakness - thanks to it, he'd probably be denied an easy death.  
  
He spared a glance for Snape, who stood against his desk, his wand drawn, before looking over at Granger expectantly.  
  
The girl looked pale and exhausted - scared, but determined.  
  
"You can't kill him, Professor," the girl repeated in a more reserved, breathless tone, shaking her head.  
  
"He's a Vampire, Miss Granger - " Snape began coldly.  
  
"No, no, no - he's not!" The frazzled looking girl shook her head again, looking frustrated, and then she sighed.  
  
"He's not! At least, not yet. He hasn't taken a life."  
  
"Brilliant deduction, Miss Granger, but in case you've forgotten, Miss Weasley is no doubt breathing her last as we speak," Snape drawled nastily. "Now, seeing as you have never had the opportunity to see a newly turned Vampire in such contained surroundings, you may want to leave while you have the chance."  
  
"You have to listen to me, sir! I may have an idea - "  
  
"Miss Granger - "  
  
"What have you got in mind?" Draco found himself asking in a voice that sounded disturbingly unlike his own. He waited for her to lash out at him, to curse him for what he'd done.  
  
The girl surprised him by looking at him with something akin to pity, and it threw him momentarily, before he became angered by it.  
  
"It isn't for your sake really," she muttered in her snobby, controlled voice. "It's for Ginny's - but it might buy the both of you some time, until we can find a cure."  
  
Snape took a step forward, his eyes flashing. "Just what are you suggesting, Granger?"  
  
"I can't believe I'm saying this." The girl took a deep breath, and plunged ahead.  
  
"What I'm suggesting, Professor, is for Malfoy to - to turn Ginny."  
  
"You must be joking - one of them gallivanting about the school was bad enough. Look at what happened," snapped Snape.  
  
"I do not 'gallivant'," Draco felt compelled to growl. "Granger, I thought you were supposed to be a brain. If I couldn't control myself, what makes you think Ginny could?"  
  
"I - I think that Ginny could take care of herself," the girl said carefully. "You could watch out for each other, until - "  
  
"Until what? There is no cure, Granger, despite the 'happy - ever- after' fantasies you might be entertaining in that fuzzy little head of yours," snarled Draco in disgust.  
  
" You don't know there isn't a cure!"  
  
"Right, I've only spent the last seven years searching for one!"  
  
"It's amazing - I thought maybe the reason you've continued to be so incredibly childish and selfish all these years was because of everything you've been going through! I was fully prepared to be level headed and understanding about all this - and here you are, as self - centered and heartless as ever, with poor Ginny lying half - dead in that bed up there! You aren't even going to give her a chance? You owe her that much!"  
  
She sniffed forebodingly, and Draco groaned inwardly.  
  
Then it occurred to him that neither Potter or Weasley had shown up.  
  
"You didn't tell them, did you?" He asked suspiciously.  
  
The girl wiped her eyes on her robe sleeve, and looked at him impatiently. "Of course not - they'd have killed you, and any chance for Ginny would have been lost. It didn't make any difference though, did it?"  
  
He frowned at the bitterness in her voice, and looked to Snape.  
  
Their teacher narrowed his dark eyes and slowly crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"Do you think we have a chance?" Draco asked bluntly.  
  
Snape gave him a short nod after a long, tense moment. "Perhaps."  
  
"What will we do about Dumbledore? The rest of the staff?"  
  
"I'll see to them," Snape said grudgingly. "You have my silence on the matter - but not my blessing."  
  
After a long silence, Draco walked around the desk and vanished out the door.  
  
~***~  
  
" - a young man, with a pale face, a stately brow, and a strange expression about the eyes, which no one cared to look on twice." - V.V. 1847  
  
~***~  
  
Hermione released a relieved sigh as the tall, pale boy left in his eerily silent manner. It had been hellish, standing so near him.  
  
She'd never been comfortable around Draco Malfoy; there had always been something so dangerous, so disturbingly predatory about the way he held himself, how he regarded people, that she'd never wanted to be in the same room with him. And now she knew why.  
  
Snape looked at her, and she stared back, her brown eyes troubled, but unrepentant. She'd accomplished what she'd come for.  
  
"Well? What are you waiting for, girl?" He snapped again. "We have a job to do."  
  
Hermione hid a triumphant, yet weary smile. Ginny had gotten a chance.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
~***~  
  
TBC  
  
(A/N: So sorry about the short chapter, guys - I've been so insanely busy, I haven't had time to update. I'll work really hard on getting the others stories updated soon. Thanks so much for reading, and thanks to those of you who reviewed - I really appreciate you! I hope you like where this is going. ^-^ ~Lee) 


	6. 6 The Miraculous Recovery

Disclaimer: Not mine! But you already knew that. (Cheeky Monkey! ^-^ Sorry, too much SNL, lol. )  
  
~***~  
  
6. The Miraculous Recovery  
  
~***~  
  
The cavernous room was still and dark - Draco had had to wait for nearly two hours until a distraught Arthur and Molly Weasley had at last moved reluctantly from their daughter's bedside, pulling away with them every last one of her grief stricken brothers, save Ron.  
  
He'd listened to Pomfrey explain Ginny's condition, listened to them question the woman about moving her to a hospital, giving her blood, their desperate pleas for anything that could help - and for the first time in his life, he'd actually felt guilty for something he'd done.  
  
When the room was silent, and deserted, Draco finally entered, his ears picking up immediately on the weakening beat of her heart as it labored along. He had to move quickly - Pomfrey would return soon.  
  
His fangs lengthened in reflex, their points lethally sharp against his tongue as he stealthily approached her bedside - the thought of her, small and lovely and vulnerable beneath him sent fire racing through his body.  
  
Nothing in the world could have stopped him from touching her then. He paused beside her, looking down on her in the darkness. Her skin fairly glowed, it was so flawlessly pale, and her hair, which had been a glorious, glossy riot of dark red curls, not three days previous, now lay lifeless and dull alongside her slim, bandaged throat.  
  
Nearly mindless in his sudden hunger, he touched the bandage with one finger, and as if in answer, blood began to well up from beneath, staining its pristine whiteness.  
  
The scent of it had him sweeping the small square of gauze away, and bowing his head to her skin.  
  
"You won't, Malfoy, if you cherish your worthless existence."  
  
Draco froze, his lips mere millimeters from his goal. He heard her heart flutter dangerously, and caught his breath.  
  
Furious at the interruption, he slowly straightened, and turned to face the owner of the voice.  
  
A hard featured Potter and a murderous looking Weasley stood a few feet away. Draco's eye caught on the Invisibility cloak swept across Harry's shoulders and he was hard pressed not to snarl.  
  
They must have been lying in wait for him all along.  
  
He looked at the two wands pointed at him impatiently.  
  
"I don't think I've ever been so tempted to kill anyone before in my entire life," Ron Weasley stated in a low gruff voice shaking with black rage.  
  
"Ron, don't."  
  
Draco looked at the pair with half lidded, slashing silver eyes. "Do it and she dies."  
  
"Is that a threat?" Potter stepped forward, his dark brows drawn down in a threatening manner.  
  
Draco shrugged. "Take it in whatever way you want. The fact is, without me, she will die."  
  
He watched the dark haired boy approach slowly, his green gaze glancing at Ginny.  
  
"You mean to say - you can help her?"  
  
Weasley darted forward, his red hair falling messily into his sight. "Don't listen to him, Harry. He's lying. He's using some kind of compulsion - "  
  
Draco ignored him. "In a sense, yes. I can change her into what I am."  
  
"A bloody Vampire? I don't think so - "  
  
"Shut up, Ron!" Harry looked at him again, and narrowed his eyes. "You know we can't let that happen. She wouldn't want to be.like that."  
  
"How do you know what she would want, Potter? You're not the one laying at death's door."  
  
"My sister will not be a killer!" Ron hissed fiercely through his teeth. "She won't be like you!"  
  
Draco crossed his arms, trying not to show his alarm as he sensed the girl's downward decline. Her breathing was slowing. Her heart was struggling.  
  
"I'm no killer," he forced himself to say evenly.  
  
"You're a Vampire!"  
  
"I'm not." Draco went on to explain his own experience with annoyance.  
  
"It just goes to show how much attention you pay in class, Weasley, or you would know, that for the conversion to be complete, after the blood exchange, the Vampire's victim must make a kill," he finished sneeringly.  
  
"And you haven't killed yet," Potter murmured thoughtfully.  
  
"Not yet." He looked pointedly at Ginny, whose skin was becoming dangerously tinged with blue. "If she dies - "  
  
"So.if you change her, she won't become a Vampire?"  
  
Ron looked aghast. "Harry, don't tell me you're even thinking - "  
  
"She won't unless she kills someone," Draco confirmed.  
  
Harry looked at him suspiciously. "What then? You change her - what happens then?"  
  
"By changing her, I save myself - for a time. For as long as I can control myself. As for her, she'll be alive - and if she can manage to do the same, well, we might have a chance. We may be able to track down a cure."  
  
"This is bullshit, Harry! He's just trying to save his own ass."  
  
Draco focused his eyes on Ginny's brother, red - orange pinpoints of light springing up as his patience snapped.  
  
"Do what you will - but you'd better act fast," he snarled, gnashing his fangs. "She'd not going to last much longer, and my patience is at an end, Weasley. Coincidentally, you may want exit the premises, as I'm fairly sure it'll be you I come after first!"  
  
He had the satisfaction of seeing the other, bigger boy blanch slightly, and swallow.  
  
"This is the only way, then?"  
  
Draco nodded tightly.  
  
Potter looked at his friend.  
  
"How about it?"  
  
Weasley glanced over to watch his sister, saw her chest barely moving, and cleared his throat. He drew himself up, and took a deep breath.  
  
"All right. I can tell you, she won't be happy about it. But if there's even a small chance she'll live, become fully human again." Ron glared over at Draco. "And you - well, you Malfoy, can go back to being whatever it was you were beforehand."  
  
"Sod off, Weasley," Draco had taken a step forward without realizing it, his fists clenched, but the faltering sound of Ginny's vital signs stopped him.  
  
He turned toward her, his heart lurching at how far gone she was.  
  
"Wait - I want her consent on this," Harry called from behind him. "We have to try."  
  
"You'll have her death on your hands if you insist on it, Potter," Draco growled, bowing swiftly to her throat. In a movement that was purely him, he looked back over his shoulder at them as he hovered near, and smirked, revealing the point of one gleaming white fang, a blood red haze flashing iridescently over the silver of his eyes. He arched a brow as he drawled, "Feel free to watch."  
  
Weasley whirled away with a curse. Potter went slightly green, but stared back at him stubbornly.  
  
Draco couldn't help but feel a strong sense of satisfaction at the thought he was causing the two people he most disliked, supreme discomfort.  
  
He turned back to Ginny, and lowered his head, his tongue aching for the hot, familiar taste of her blood.  
  
~***~  
  
Ginny slowly became aware of something very odd.  
  
She heard heart beats - not a heart beat, but heart beats. Four of them.  
  
A roaring sound rose, as the steady pounding noises grew in volume, so much that they nearly hurt her ears.  
  
Something hot, coppery and salty was on her tongue. It tasted like blood.  
  
Disgusted, she tried to turn her head, but she was too weak to do so.  
  
The sticky liquid filled her mouth so that she almost choked on it, and she was forced to swallow. For a moment she was horrified that she was dying, and choking on her own blood.  
  
She swallowed again, in panic, and then again, trying to breathe. A wave of pain washed over her, blocking her thoughts. She felt tears roll out of the corners of her eyes, It felt as if something was pulling her apart, inside.  
  
A hand clasped hers comfortingly as it lay limply on the sheets, and she calmed somewhat as she mercifully began to lose consciousness.  
  
At least she wouldn't die alone.  
  
~***~  
  
Draco forced his wrist away from Ginny's lips, drawing in a hissing breath at the sting of the wound he'd made.  
  
A length of white linen was dangled in front of his face, and he blinked, before grasping it, and casting a suspicious look at its bearer. Harry stared back at him and turned his eyes to Ginny.  
  
Draco wound the bandage around the seeping slash, tying it off with his teeth, and then he clamped a palm around it tightly to stop the bleeding.  
  
"She should be well enough, now. She'll probably sleep through tonight and tomorrow."  
  
"Sleep? But you were right there with us when we found Harry, and you said that was when - " began Ron.  
  
"Yes, but I hadn't been suffering blood loss for three days before hand, either, " Draco explained shortly.  
  
"And whose fault is that?" The red - head shot back.  
  
Draco ground his teeth and then smiled. "Well, I've done my part - I'll be back to take care of her when she wakes up."  
  
"We can take care of her just fine by ourselves, Malfoy."  
  
Shrugging, Draco stood from where he'd been resting on the edge of Ginny's bed. "Fine, but don't say I didn't try to warn you."  
  
"What are trying to say, Malfoy?"  
  
He flashed a diabolical grin, and moved toward the doors. "Let's just say she'll be - hungry."  
  
Potter and Weasley exchanged swift looks, and Draco laughed inwardly.  
  
"Gin wouldn't hurt a fly," Ron muttered, shaking himself. "Wouldn't or couldn't, Weasley?" Draco murmured just loud enough for them to hear as he reached the doors.  
  
He could feel their rising fear and distrust, and he shook his head, pausing in the exit.  
  
"Don't worry - I'll be back."  
  
As he left, feeling tired and weak, he heard Weasley say, " I was worried he was going to say that."  
  
~***~  
  
By late evening it was all over the school about the amazing transformation that had happened nearly overnight in Ginny Weasley.  
  
According to Madam Pomfrey, who had found her wide awake and trembling in her bed an hour after dark, she had made a miraculous recovery.  
  
To the delight of her family and friends, she was sitting up in her bed, eyes almost overly bright in her oddly pale face, her red hair shining in health and curling softly over her shoulders.  
  
The funny thing was, no one seemed to be able to recall just what had happened to her, or even that it mattered.  
  
With the exception of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Harry and Draco, of course.  
  
Snape had been as good as his word about taking care of things - but none of them ever dared to ask how he'd managed to accomplish such a feat.  
  
What was even more curious to the rest of the school, was the fact that Draco Malfoy had somehow attached himself to Ginny's bedside.  
  
~***~  
  
TBC 


	7. 7 A Fiendish Persuasion

Disclaimer: Not mine!  
  
~***~  
  
(A/N: This chapter is especially dedicated to those of you who made me feel so incredibly happy just by taking the time to sit down and write me all those e - mails with your comments and opinions - I love to hear from you guys!!! Thanks for putting up with my sporadic updates - I really hope to have plenty of time soon to catch up on things! Thanks again, so much, and I hope you like this one! ~Lee ^-^)  
  
~***~  
  
7. A Fiendish Persuasion  
  
~***~  
  
"Did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me?" -Milton, Paradise Lost  
  
~***~  
  
Ginny sat in her bed, against her pillows, staring at Draco Malfoy in a stupor. He looked back at her with an arrogant, bored expression.  
  
As far as she was concerned, she had gone mad, starkers, completely nutters. Draco was the vampire. He was sitting next to her bed, and hadn't said a word once in the last hours since she'd regained consciousness.  
  
When she'd first opened her, eyes, she'd become aware of a cold, gnawing, tearing hunger inside that had been so strong and fiercely insistent, she'd been afraid.  
  
Everything her panicked, wild gaze took in, from the tall, night darkened windows, to the expressions of the pitying, moving portraits on the walls, had looked familiar, yet dreadfully different. Even the shadows had seemed to be crawling. And then all she'd been able to think about was easing the agonizing twisting in her body, and the burning, piercing pain in her canines.  
  
She'd caught sight of Harry, and her brother - they'd looked at her wide - eyed, stepping back reflexively, and she'd actually been able to smell their fear. The scent had driven her nearly insane with the need to bite, the need to attack.  
  
Terrified by her reaction, she'd tried to move from the bed that suddenly seemed so confining, tried to run away, only to be caught by a pair of strong hands. She'd fought, gnashing her suddenly too sharp teeth, blinking through a frightening veil of red, a small part of herself untouched by the chaos looking on, aghast at her behavior.  
  
She remembered realizing that the one who held her was Draco. She'd frozen, caught in the calmness emanating from his unnervingly pale eyes, and she hadn't fought when he'd offered up his wrist, the pale skin already welling with blood from a small cut.  
  
Ginny refused to even think about what she'd done next.  
  
After that, everything had quieted. The rage of emotions, the bestial urges, the haze of red - they hadn't disappeared, but they'd decreased to a controllable level. The feeling of utter coldness dissipated, until she was left with the sort of feeling left after shaking awake a limb that had fallen asleep.  
  
She'd been back in her bed, before she'd even realized it, with Draco stepping back into the shadows of the room as if he'd originally come from them. Her wide eyes had locked with his and then with the two pairs of shocked eyes staring at her from nearby. Madam Pomfrey had then appeared, and after her, her mother had been there, sobbing, wrapping her arms around her.  
  
Rather than being comforted, Ginny had nearly panicked when she'd felt the beat of her mother's heart, and heard what she knew to be the woman's blood rushing through her veins.  
  
Pomfrey had lit several lamps, and Ginny had found herself flinching in pain, turning away from the sudden warm glow.  
  
From the snippets of conversation she caught in the hectic minutes after, she was supposed to have been lying there dead.  
  
Ginny had seen Percy and Charlie, Fred and George, Ron and Bill, all in the same place for the first time in several years, but her happiness at seeming her family together was tempered by her fear.  
  
She'd been thankful when Madam Pomfrey had at last insisted that everyone leave so she could rest - the things she had heard and seen were more than slightly unsettling. Her family had left grudgingly, but still no one had seemed to notice Draco still standing in the darkness, just outside of the ring of light cast by the lamps, watching her.  
  
He'd returned silently to her bedside, an expert flick of his wand snuffing the light, and there he'd stayed, quiet and aloof.  
  
Ginny couldn't bring herself to speak - but everything was so still she almost wished Draco would speak.  
  
Though she was afraid of what he might have to say.  
  
What was really haunting her though, was the fear that had been in Ron and Harry's eyes when they'd looked at her - the fact that they were frightened of her had served only to scare her even more.  
  
She looked over at Draco again, and at last realized he why he was there.  
  
He wasn't watching over her, he was there to watch her. He was probably there to keep her from hurting anyone, which Ginny found oddly ironic.  
  
Well, she remembered well what had happened, and what he was - and she could only assume he'd made her what he was - a vampire.  
  
"Why did you let Harry and Ron stay here?" She suddenly asked, her voice sounding unrecognizable to her own ears.  
  
Draco arched a brow, eyeing her with feigned interest. "What do you mean?"  
  
Her skin tingled with awareness at the silky sound of his voice. It sounded different, had a richness to it that she hadn't been aware of before.  
  
Ginny cleared her throat. "You let them stay, and you knew how I was going to be when I woke up. You knew, and they were scared of me."  
  
He shrugged, a slight smirk curling his lips. "It was rather amusing, wasn't it?"  
  
Ginny stared at him, her fear suddenly clawing at her. The darkness of the room seemed to be closing in around her, making it seem airless.  
  
"I know what you're thinking. 'Why couldn't he have been a werewolf?'"  
  
"You're barmy!" She whispered, fisting her hands in her blankets. "Don't you have any idea what you've done to me? You've ruined my life! You killed me!"  
  
"You know, you never struck me as being the type of girl to be prone to hysterics. Don't be so bloody dramatic, Weasley." Draco stood from his seat and slowly prowled in the darkness at he end of her bed, his strange silvery gaze glittering at her.  
  
"I didn't kill you. In point of fact, if you want to get downright technical, I actually saved you."  
  
Ginny laughed unsteadily in disbelief, and started to slide unsteadily from her bed. "Vampire's are undead - everyone knows that."  
  
"You aren't a vampire. You aren't one of the undead. Not yet, anyway. Neither am I, for all that."  
  
She felt her toes touch the floor, and for once didn't flinch at the coldness of the ancient stone beneath her bare feet.  
  
Draco took a deceptively leisurely step towards her, and she instinctively lashed out, snapping at him with her teeth, warning him to keep his distance.  
  
His eyes flashed, suddenly vitriolic in his pale, expressionless face.  
  
A growl escaped her throat, and then Ginny violently shook her head in denial, pressing her back against the wall. "This can't be happening. I'm having a nightmare - "  
  
"Are you going to cry now? Let me know if you are - I'll step out. I find tears especially tiresome. The weeping and wailing always hurts my ears," drawled Draco dispassionately in his deep, velvety, upper crust accent, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
The swish of his robes, the sounds of folds of fabric brushing against each other, whisper soft, rasped along her nerves, making her ears ache. She threw her hands up over her them, trying to blot out the suddenly deafening noise, but it only got worse.  
  
That familiar pounding rose again, and she realized it was her heart, beating too loud. It was joined by another, this one stronger, keeping beat with hers.  
  
Ginny pressed her palms to her ears, her breath coming more rapidly as she heard the sounds of her mother weeping in rooms outside of the Infirmary doors, and then the slightly more distant , familiar noises of students chattering in the Great Hall. The perfectly normal sounds of clattering utensils scraped along her nerves. Great, eerie screeches from the Owlery made her clench her teeth. She felt the slight shifting of the moving staircases, heard the grinding of the stone, and from far, far below, the steady drip of water, the strong odor of sulfur and the high-pitched squeaking of rats.  
  
For a moment it wall all too much, a sensory overload - and then -  
  
Draco spoke, his voice coolly impassive.  
  
"Look at me."  
  
Ginny tried to resist, but she found herself looking up at him in an instant, at his emotionless face and hard metallic eyes.  
  
Slowly the cacophony stopped, and Ginny finally regained control of her senses. Finally, all she heard was her own labored breathing.  
  
Draco was watching her closely, his fair head cocked slightly to one side. "I'd almost forgotten about that. How overwhelming those first few hours were," he commented softly.  
  
Ginny swallowed, and winced as she inadvertently pricked her tongue with her teeth. She began moving, keeping her back to the wall, feeling her way across the tapestry covered stone with a weakly scrabbling hand.  
  
He smirked, a fire lighting in his eyes. "Where do you think you're going, Gin?"  
  
She took a deep breath, and came to an abrupt halt. "Don't call me that."  
  
"What? Gin? Why?" He asked, sounding amused.  
  
"You don't know me."  
  
"I do - I know more about you than you think." Draco shifted his stance, and took several slow, deliberate steps her way, making her hard pressed not to cringe back against the wall.  
  
"I know, for instance, that you think you're going to get out of here in the next few moments."  
  
Ginny looked at him, her eyes wide. "Let me go."  
  
Draco snorted, and gave his head a slight shake, his eyes never leaving hers. "You sound as if I'm holding you against your will."  
  
"A - aren't you?" Ginny used this opportunity to inch farther along the wall, towards the door.  
  
"Hell no. If you want to go out there and scream to the whole bloody world that you think you're a vampire, by all means, I won't stop you, as long as you keep your mouth shut about me." Draco stopped perhaps a foot away from her, and paused. "I don't think you'll want to go out there just yet, though, when I tell you what will happen if you do."  
  
He didn't have to tell her. Ginny well knew what happened to vampires once they were caught.  
  
"B - but you said I wasn't one!"  
  
"I said you weren't one 'yet'." Draco's expression suddenly turned fierce, and he moved his arms up on either side of her to pin her against the wall. "You weren't listening in class either, were you, Weasley? You must make a kill in order to turn completely. Understand? I 'saved' you because if you had died, 'I' would have turned. It's that simple. There is a slim possibility that we may be able to find a cure, but it will take time, and while I do usually have some control over my baser instincts, I've no doubt that I could liken the extent of yours to a newborn Kneazle's ability to control it's bladder," he said with brutal honesty.  
  
"I could really care less about what becomes of you, and if you want to go gadding about, biting half the Wizarding community on the ass, feel free to do so, but do you honestly think any of them out there are going to listen to you once you tell them what happened to you? There is no known cure. You'll be imprisoned, and that coward Fudge will have you destroyed, even before your dear, sweet Mum can shed a tear."  
  
Trembling in reaction to his nearness, and his harsh words, Ginny slid down the wall and put her head on her knees, silently sobbing.  
  
"Now," he murmured above her, "tell me you really want to go out there right now."  
  
"I hate you," Ginny whispered, wrapping her arms around her knees.  
  
A rustling movement above her told her he'd moved away. "Tell me something I haven't heard."  
  
"How can you be so cruel? Why can't you even pretend to care? You might as well be one of them!" Ginny sniffed angrily, raising her head to look at him, knowing her words were wrong, but needing to hurt him back.  
  
His back was turned, as he stared out one of the dark windows, his hair gilded with dull silver light from the half-hidden moon outside.  
  
His voice was very quiet when he spoke. "I've been dealing with this for seven years. I'll warn you once. You may want to watch what you say to me."  
  
Ginny stood up, furious, suddenly. "Stop trying to scare me! That's what you want, isn't it? You want me to be scared! You like knowing I'm afraid of you, don't you? You like scaring people."  
  
Draco turned back to her, smiling in a disturbingly charming way. "What's not to like? It's something I'm good at very good at, you know."  
  
Ashamed of herself, Ginny slumped tiredly against her bed, exhausted. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Noone deserves what you've gone through."  
  
His false smile became chilling in an instant. "I have the feeling you're going to push me a bit too far one night."  
  
Her heart leapt into her throat as he stepped toward her. Her apology had seemed to anger him more than her insults.  
  
The doors to the Infirmary opened, casting gold torchlight briefly into the room before they closed.  
  
Harry and Ron appeared from thin air, and Ginny nearly collapsed in relief.  
  
Draco gave her a last glance, and walked away toward the doors.  
  
"I'll be back - I have some business to attend to."  
  
"You mean you have to go rip some poor bloke's throat out," Ron muttered bravely.  
  
Draco paused, looked back at Ginny, and then he smirked in a conspiratory manner at Harry.  
  
"Be careful, Potter - she has teeth, and she knows how to bite - in more ways than one."  
  
~***~  
  
TBC  
  
~***~  
  
"When death is always near, it should matter more to you the kind of life you lead."  
  
~***~ 


	8. 8 The 'Malevolent Benefactor'

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. ::shivers:: Scary.

~***~

(A/N: Okay…::deep breath!::

First off, the French Viscount de Moriéve is based on an actual account of a vampire – named 'de Moriéve' – who supposedly existed for nearly a full century after the French Revolution. The info comes from the 1997 edition of The Vampire In Europe, by Montague Summers. In addition, of course, I have borrowed a quote or two from the movie Queen of the Damned. I am inspired by many things, so please don't think badly of me if you come across anything similar to something or someone else. It's not always intentional. I always try to credit anything I do use. I always manage to twist quotes out of context, I guess - so if you read one and are confused with it's relevance to the story, sorry in advance. 

If my French is off – it's been a looong time - I'm sorry about that too! Let me know, so that I can correct it. I also ask that you readers continue to remain open minded about this story – and to remember that in the Wizarding world, witches and wizards live for much longer periods of time than Muggles! (Yes, I _am_ obsessed!) To those of you who asked, the prophecy from the first chappy will come into effect 'much' later. 

Thanks for reading!

~Lee  ^_^)

~***~

_8. The 'Malevolent Benefactor'_

~***~

_"Hide not your talents, they were for use made._

_What's a Sun-dial in the shade?"_

_ – Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard _

~***~

 He had been leaning against a wall in a state of rare, lazy repletion somewhere in a corridor on the third floor. After having had a taste of some foolish, misdirected Hufflepuff, he suddenly found himself standing at the edge of the forbidden forest. The fingers of fog within reaching out to him were so thick they seemed to wrap around his calves and ankles, as if to pull him forward.

Draco eyed the wall of endless blackness before him with a slight sneer of distaste.

"Still have tastes for the melodramatic, don't you, de Moriéve?"

"Still loathing the power I have given you, I see," came the amused, lightly accented retort.

 Draco felt a snarl creep onto his face as he whirled to face the monster standing behind him.

In one furious, flashing movement, Draco had his wand withdrawn and pointed directly at the intruder.

"Ah, young one…it is…_good_ to see you again." The creature laughed from where it stood beneath the shadows of the trees.

"You'll forgive me if I don't say the same," Draco stated coldly, his rage slowly building.

The next short, chilling burst of laughter made him gnash his teeth.

"You've grown even more since I've seen you last – it's a pity you weren't able to move that fast when I first came upon you, eh?"

Draco kept his wand trained on the creature in severe distrust. He didn't bother asking what the vampire wanted – he didn't care.

"Wondering why I'm here?" The vampire asked sardonically.

"Actually I'm wondering which incantation would be more apt to kill you - slowly…"

"As arrogant as ever – I saw such potential in you even as a boy, you know. That cold confidence, that composure – and I watched it grow in you, these past years…"

Draco narrowed his eyes and stiffened his spine. 

"If I didn't know better, young Malfoy, I'd almost accuse you of having some misplaced, lingering respect for life, the way you've skulked about, refusing to kill."

Draco gave his head a sharp shake. The thing _had_ been watching him. "I have respect for _my_ life – you know better than to assume I'm wasting my time brooding over taking the lives of others, de Moriéve. It's the simple fact that I have no wish to walk about looking like a corpse – and I imagine, after nearly three centuries, it isn't quite so easy for _you_ to impress the ladies."

After a long silence, the vampire stepped forward into the moonlight, and Draco, even after having steeled himself for the sight, fought not to take a step back.

Though the memory of the vampire's attack was forever imprinted on his mind, the fierce, brutal visage of the thing standing in the flesh before him still made his gut clench slightly in fear.

This was it. This was the thing that he would become if he ever killed. Draco's own vanity in that moment was nearly enough to dispel any thoughts of _ever_ giving in.

Where de Moriéve had a voice as even and cultured as any old world nobleman, it was deceiving, and at direct odds with his appearance.

The old vampire was powerful enough to draw his victims to him, powerful enough to appear to his victims in any manner he wished – but Draco could see him as he really was – and he could bet Potter that Voldemort had nothing on 'looks' compared to de Moriéve.

The man was tall and very gaunt – his skin was pale, paper thin and ashen gray in places. His hair was long, a dirty blond, and threaded through with coarse gray. The thin lips, high cheekbones, and unnaturally bright, piercing silver eyes may once have been striking, but now looked shrunken, cadaverous. The whites of the vampire's eyes were no longer that – they were now pink, red-rimmed and blood shot, and his sharp fanged teeth were yellow, protruding and just downright disgusting.

Cloaked in ragged, rusty black robes, he looked nothing like the powerful Viscount and wizard he had once been so long ago – and Draco had no intention of following in the creatures footsteps, hiding in the darkness, constantly hunted by Aurors and Unspeakables.

"It's been a while since you've fed, hasn't it." Draco commented in a purposely-emotionless tone.

De Moriéve sighed, but the hunger burning in his eyes belied his calm outward expression.

"Alas, _oui_ – but the forest has been a place of refuge for me many times before – it is full of life – and I'm sure it will be no time at all before I am back to my full strength."

Draco felt his lip curl at the thinly veiled threat. 

The vampire smiled menacingly. "Come, come, Malfoy – put away that wand. I have not come to harm you."

"I find that very hard to believe considering your actions in the past," Draco stated scathingly.

"I have spent these past centuries in near solitude. Is it wrong that I might seek out some form of  - companionship, every now and again?"

"Immortality sounds like a good idea until you realize you're going to spend it alone, doesn't it, de Moriéve?" Draco couldn't help but dig, his anger escalating. He'd wondered for years if he'd ever again come face to face with his attacker, and now his control was strained to the breaking point at the vampire's presumptuousness. He wanted to throw his wand aside - and rip the bastards throat out with his teeth.

The vampire only laughed, again sounding not quite sane. "I am _enchanté _to see that _le malingnité_ I saw in you years ago has grown so very well. _C'est magnifique_, oui, so beautiful and wicked. But what is this? Do you think I am angered so easily, _enfant?_ That so called control I understand your father is so fond of spouting off about, is in my blood as well…" de Moriéve's sharp, cold features moved into a demonic smile.

Draco's angry sneer faltered. 

The vampire began to lazily circle him, and Draco ground his teeth as his every sense screamed at him to move.

"What are you going on about, de Moriéve? How do you know my father?"

Frozen, rancid smelling breath brushed the back of his neck, and he stiffened his back again in reaction. It was unsettling in the extreme to be the recipient of this slow stalking again, after _he'd_ been the predator for so long…but it just went to show how arrogant he'd been. His 'power' was nothing compared to de Moriéve's'…

"Well, I cannot say I know the man in any true depth – but I was, in point of fact, _very, very _close to the family in the 'old' country…" The vampire paused before Draco, and as realization dawned, he stared into silver eyes - the aged, experience-ravaged mirror of his own.

Draco did take a stumbling step back at this revelation.

There had been rumors, things murmured in secret about his powerful Wizarding ancestors that his father had forbade any residing at the manor to speak of – but he'd never lent any credence to the ridiculous gossip –

De Moriéve…how had he not thought of it before? The vampire had revealed his name at their first 'meeting' – Draco had known his grandfather had changed the family name when he'd moved to England at the turn of the century, but why – no wonder he'd left their ancestral France -

"Of course, you may call me _arriére-grand-pére_, if you wish…"

Draco continued to stare at the creature is disbelief. 

The vampire cocked an eyebrow fiendishly. "No? Ah, well…"

_"Why?"_ Draco heard himself ask harshly.

"Why? Why did I give you your power, your gift?"

"Gift?" Draco snorted. "It's more like a curse."

"Tell me, young Draco - if you truly loathe it so much, why did you share it?"

Frozen, he stared at the creature in disbelief. He knew about Ginny? "How did you know?" For the first time, a kind of fear stole over him at the thought of Ginny Weasley being anywhere near de Moriéve.

"The same way you knew that I was near," de Moriéve shrugged gracefully. " We can always sense when another of our kind is around, you know – "

"I'm not one of 'your kind'," Draco pointed out furiously. "I never will be."

"Of course – that is your choice," the vampire said with another careless shrug. Then the unnatural light in his icy eyes turned malevolent.

"But…what of the _other_?"

Draco felt his heart lurch in his chest. "Stay out of it," he whispered to the vampire warningly. 

De Moriéve continued pacing again. "This – _friend_ of yours…how is it that she has not killed yet?"

"You will not come anywhere near her," Draco promised with a snarl, a small part of his mind wondering at the sudden possessive rage he felt.

"Ah…so it _is_ a female, _oui_?"

Draco clenched his teeth at his own stupidity. His small loss of control could cost Ginny her mortal life if de Moriéve had something up his moldering sleeve – which he doubtless did. "She's no one – nothing."

"Is she? I wonder – "

Solitude…companionship – his head wrapped around the words suddenly.

"She's not for you." He told the thing that was his great-grandfather in an arctic tone.

De Moriéve's chin jerked upward in insult. "You know _nothing_," the vampire told him in a tight voice and with an expression that Draco again realized eerily matched his own. "You have no claim on her – you yourself have said she is nothing. Perhaps – "

"Perhaps nothing. She's not like me by choice, you fool. Moreover, she will remain under my protection until – "he cut himself off and bit his tongue in punishment. The bloody vampire seemed to have a way of making him speak very uncharacteristically out of turn.

"_Oui_? _Until_? Still looking for a cure, are you?" De Moriéve shook his head in amusement. "There is no cure – you are the one acting foolishly here, _enfant_. It is your fate – you have in your hands the power to become one of the most feared and respected dark wizards of all time! You could crush Voldemort, gather armies, rule the world – you are _wasting _your gifts!"

The vampire was utterly mad. "Why not do it yourself, _grandfather_?" Draco asked mockingly. 

"Insolent, aren't you? Like me," De Moriéve chuckled, the fanatic gleam in his eyes fading.

"Never like you," Draco promised coldly.

"I am too weak, in answer to your question – too old, too tired. Do not doubt me, I _am _powerful – but you have the makings of a dark wizard as none the world has ever seen, young one. I could almost smell the anger, the _power_ emanating from you that night in the forest – and you were only an untrained child. You were greatly afraid that night, _oui_ – but your conceit, that air of superiority you carried beneath the fear, made it impossible for me not to take you – imagine my surprise at discovering my own blood flowing in your veins. I was nearly too late to save you, you know – I hadn't much control then, as I'd been hunted for many weeks before seeking solace in the forest -" 

"You never answered my other question," Draco cut in rudely. All his talk of blood was making his hunger stir again. "Why didn't you just leave me to die? Why did you bother returning my blood? And don't bother telling me it was because you felt some kind of paternal responsibility."

The vampire stared at Draco avidly for a moment, and then smirked and arched a blonde brow.

"It pleased me to, at the time. I was…bored."

Being on the receiving end of a stinging insult was something Draco found he did not care for. It had been for nothing – his childhood, wasted…he opened his mouth to recite a forbidden dark incantation that would have reduced the vampire to ashes – and landed him in prison, thanks to the wards on the school grounds – but in the blink of an eye, the vampire was gone, back into the inky depths of the forbidden forest. Only a sliver of his mad laughter remained.

"Au revoir, enfant…" 

Draco closed his mouth, and lowered his wand at last, both infuriated and shaken by the encounter.

He'd never really suspected he'd ever see de Moriéve again – but now he knew better than to think that he'd seen the last of him.

Especially if he'd set his sights on Ginny. 

She seemed to have a profoundly odd effect on the Malfoy men – he himself was proof of that. He'd been drawn to her, time and again – and de Moriéve was already more than interested, sight unseen.

Unfortunately, Draco knew it wouldn't be long before Ginny was being stalked again – and not by him, this time.

He'd have to keep a tight rein on the girl – she'd be safe on the grounds, and within Hogwarts – but if she ever ventured into Hogsmeade, or the forest – but what did he care, really, what happened to her? It would be a godsend, nearly, if de Moriéve decided to take the girl off his hands. He wouldn't have to chase her around, keep her under control, or fear that she would give them both away –

And Weasley and Potter would have the Ministry on him in an instant if he let anything happen to her.

_"Fuck!"_

His incensed, frustrated curse was answered by a distant laugh.

Draco sent a scowl at the trees, and whirled around, stalking back toward the castle.

~*~

_"Night tine is a season_

_Feel the cold wind blow_

_And I toss and turn_

_And I walk the floor_

_Here I go again_

_The night just walked in_

_In walks my fantasy_

_My mind takes no prisoners_

_Pities no one_

_It spares not even me_

_Until the harm is done,"_

_-' In walks the Night', Heart_

~*~

Ginny was standing by a window near her bed when he returned to her.

Potter and her brother were nowhere in sight.

"Where'd you hide the bodies?" He couldn't keep himself from asking her in dark amusement. It looked as if the Dream Team hadn't been able to tough out 'baby-sitting' Ginny.

Ginny took his breath away as she turned to face him, her small, slim body and lush red curls outlined by the moonlight.

"Hermione owled them – she needed their help with something."

' - And they probably jumped at that excuse,' he thought darkly. "Do you need to feed again?"

The girl surprised him by laughing – it wasn't a happy sound, however.

"_Again?_ I feel hungry all the time! It doesn't ever really go away,"

Draco crossed his arms against an unwelcome surge of pity and commiseration. 

"I was sitting here, feeling sorry for myself, you know. And…I thought about what it must have been like for you, being so young…I mean, just the thought of what you must have gone through, and alone – "

"Don't pity me," he found himself snapping. "Or are you forgetting I was the one who got you into this bloody mess in the first place?" He didn't want her pity – it made him furious, just as it had earlier.

She looked at him with a troubled, intense stare, and then turned back toward the window, rubbing her arms as if she were cold.

"Get into bed – you have to be freezing," he ordered, noting her bare feet.

"It won't help – I can't get warm," she mumbled, lowering her head until her hair fell forward to hide her face.

Draco felt a tug somewhere in his chest, and felt his jaw tighten in reaction. "Go."

Surprisingly she didn't resist. She crawled into the bed listlessly, and pulled the blankets up to her chin, her eyes downcast.

He swept over to her bedside, steeling himself against the scent of her, and rolled up his robe sleeve.

She finally looked up at him, her eyes wide and brimming with tears, and shook her head vehemently.

"Don't – Draco, I don't want – "

"You will, if you don't want to tear into the throat of the next unaware person who walks in here to check on you," he told her warningly. "It could very well be your dear old Mum. You need to feed a lot in the first days, to be able to exert some control over yourself."

Ginny made a choking sound, and then he caught her eyeing his arm in dismay.

"I can't – I hurt you before – _god, I can't look at it_ – "

Draco gave his healing wrist only a cursory glance before he rolled his eyes and growled in disgust. "Give over Weasley – you know you want it. Besides, do you really want to go bouncing off the jugular of someone else? Potter, perhaps? Your brother?"

Ginny swallowed, and closed her eyes. "No."

"Then shut up and drink," he stated callously and held his wrist to her lips.

She licked her lips as he watched, and he caught himself staring in avid fascination. It was far too intimate; her drinking from him this way – eventually something was bound to happen –

He hissed slightly as she quickly sank her slender fangs voraciously into his wrist.

As before, with the pain came the disconcerting pleasure – and the nearly overwhelming need to taste her again. Her blood, her lips, her skin – he didn't care what it was, he just needed – 

Draco took a deep, steadying breath and closed his eyes to the sight of her lips against his skin – it was a bad move. Every sensation intensified tenfold – the gentle brush of her tongue against the wound proved to be his undoing.

He was suddenly jealous of the soft, almost loving attention her mouth was giving his wrist as he opened his eyes again and watched her.

_"Ginny."_

The single word came out as a growl, and she looked up at him with red-orange flames burning in her dark irises. 

He caught her chin in his hand, and lowered his head to kiss her. The taste of his blood on her reddened lips and warm tongue made him groan and unwillingly deepen the kiss.

She tasted like everything sinful in the world – and it was enthralling.

Draco soon discovered it wasn't just the blood lust that drew them together – in most respects he was still just a regular teenage boy, a virtual slave to raging hormones…and apparently Ginny was feeling the same way.

On the other hand, she really just felt sorry for him.

The thought made him kiss her harder, and he accidentally nicked her lower lip, making her gasp in pain. He soothed his tongue over the tiny wound, sucking at it slightly, making her shiver.

He was so caught up in the kiss he nearly failed to hear the footsteps approaching outside the door.

Draco pulled away from her with a huge effort, his chest heaving as he fought for breath.

The pale, beautiful redhead looked up at him dazedly, breathing just as hard as he was.

He shook his head in disgust again at his lack of control, and used his thumb to quickly wipe away the traces of blood at the corner of her lips.

He frowned at her, putting a finger to his lips when she made as if to speak – and then, thankfully, the footsteps outside the door veered off in another direction.

Draco sighed raggedly as he looked down at Ginny – it was a good thing no one had come in – one look at the girl and whoever it had been would have known exactly what they had been up to. Her innocent arousal seemed to be written all over her flushed face.

She blinked up at him as if waking up from a deep sleep, and he couldn't help the smug smirk that appeared on his lips. She was looking too tempting – and he wasn't sure his self-control could handle a repeat performance of the kiss they'd just shared.

"Go to sleep, Ginny," he said in his most compelling voice, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I'll be here in the morning."

She caught his hand, and then abruptly dropped it as if she'd realized what she was doing.

"Wait – I – I don't know if I can trust myself – what if someone comes in – "

"If someone comes in, someone comes in," Draco said tiredly. "You'll be fine – for now."

"But – but what if I do something? What if I hurt someone – "

"You seem to be under the misconception that I care," he stated crossly. He'd never had a great deal of patience, and he was weary.

"W-what?"

"Ginny, I could care less if you 'hurt' someone – just keep my bloody name out of it, will you? I'm going to bed."

She made an angry sound and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.

He scowled at her fiercely.

"Stop acting so superior," she told him spitefully. "Like you haven't worried about hurting someone – "

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Weasley. You actually think the reason I haven't killed yet is because I can't bear to take a life? You are an innocent, aren't you?"

"I haven't killed for the sheer fact that I want more than what this half life can give me. Vampires are powerful creatures, but they have their weaknesses, and I won't become one of them. I was meant for far better things than becoming a bloody worthless parasite," Draco said bitterly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it to his much-abused wrist, which had begun throbbing meanly.

"A-are you saying you could kill? That you would willingly take a life?"

He looked down on her with an unkind smile. 

"I had no problem nearly relieving you of yours, did I?"

"Don't fool yourself into thinking I have some profound, great fondness for human kind, Ginny. I was practically _born_ to stab people in the back – my parents are particularly proud of that trait. I'm willing to do anything and everything possible to achieve my ends, and yet I have half the people in this school convinced I had a 'hard childhood', and can't truly be blamed for my 'misdeeds' because I've been abused, or misled. What do you think, Ginny? Do I make a 'tragic figure'?" He smirked at her, enjoying the scandalized look on her face.

"You're evil," she muttered beneath her breath.

"I try." He turned his back on her, and stopped only when he got to the infirmary doors.

"Goodnight, Ginny. Sleep well – believe me, you're going to need it..."  

"Is that really all you have to say about this?" She watched him from her bed with narrowed eyes.

Draco shrugged and pushed through the doors. He had plenty he _could_ say – but he was in no mood to say it. "You know that old saying – brevity is a virtue."

~***~

_" - The hardest victory is victory over self." – Aristotle_

_~***~_

TBC  ^_~


	9. A Day's Passing

~*~

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

~*~

9. A Day's Passing

~*~

_"Is not today enough? Why do I peer_

_Into the darkness of the day to come?_

_Is not tomorrow even as yesterday?_

_And will the day that follows change thy doom?" ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley, From: Sufficient Unto The Day_

~*~

"He was smiling slightly at her, a cruel smile that even in it's cruelty was beautiful." ~The DarkAngel, Meredith Ann Pierce 

~*~

Her nightmares were red.

Everything was red, the sky, the moon, the grass beneath her feet – and everything was bleeding…

Hunger gnawed at her, clawing at her insides, and the metallic, coppery scent of blood was carried along on the night breeze to her, teasing her, making her teeth ache and her breath sob in her throat as she hunted her prey – through the dark red forest she ran, her frustration growing until it consumed her, made her even more maddened than she already was.

She was so thirsty – all she could think of was the desperate need to drink.

Something stirred ahead of her in the crimson darkness, but she was quick to move. A swiping slash of her hand, and smooth white skin, as white and fair as she remembered the moon once being, opened too easily beneath her burning gaze – rich, dark red blood welled up.

She bent her head swiftly – and saw _his_ eyes looking up at her, too cold, too still…

White-blonde hair stained scarlet swept across a noble brow, and she retracted, staring down at the boy in her lap in nameless horror. 

Killed. She'd killed – 

_"No!"_

~*~

He'd been sleeping dreamlessly, shut away in his dorm with the bed curtains drawn tight, when he heard the soul-shattering shriek pierce the late morning air.

Draco's eyes snapped open in the darkness, and he lay still for a moment before sitting straight up, instantly awake.

He felt his heart give a protesting, sluggish thud, and then swallowed hard before throwing aside the bed curtains and finding himself near blinded by the sunlight streaming through the uncovered window. Cursing fiendishly, he narrowed his eyes, hurriedly tugged on his clothes and grabbed up his robes before racing out of the dorm into the dungeons.

Draco could hear Ginny's anguished scream thundering, echoing still in his overly sensitive ears, and though his first instinct when he'd woken had been to get to her to protect her, (and god help whoever had dared lay a hand on her) now he merely wanted to get to her before she let out another of those awful, brain rattling screeches.

He made it up to the hospital wing in record time, and couldn't help the snarl of impatience on his face as he entered through the doors, still dragging on his black school robes.

She was sitting up in her bed, sobbing uncontrollably, that cow Pomfrey and her mother trying desperately to console her.

"What are you whining about now?" He growled as he approached, knowing his flowing black robes and his fierce pale eyes and skin probably made him look as a winged creature come to lay waste and devour.

The two older women stared, startled by his sudden appearance, and then made as if to scold him and send him on his way – but with one annoyed, intolerant glance they were easily silenced.

Ginny, her face in her hands, didn't even bother to look up.

"Will you cease that bloody pointless bawling? It's making my ears throb," he bit out at her fiercely, his slender fangs snapping together, and then turned a black, squinting  frown on the too bright room. "Hell, its no wonder you're crying – what are they trying to do,  permanently blind you?" He went around pulling drapes and then turned back to her.

The tiny red-head only shuddered, shaking herself as if she were trying to clear her head.

Draco crossed his arms, and regarded her in disgust. "I'll truly pity the world if you ever do become immortal – everyone will be haunted for eternity by a bloody worthless, howling vampire." He smirked thoughtfully, raising a thumb to brush his chin. "Maybe that's what I should call you – _Weeping Weasley. _You can always take up residence with Moaning Myrtle in her bathroom – spend your time scaring the first years."

The girl's breathing became less tortured, and finally she flung her head back and looked at him, her white face wet with tears, her honey-brown irises tinted with an unnatural red-gold.

"Thank you for reminding me that you're not worth crying over," she told him softly in an unsteady voice.

"Oh? Was that what all that noise was about? Did I give you nightmares? Well. That's hardly flattering." His pale eyes watched her intently, and he absently slipped the tip of his thumb through his lips, and gnawed on it with one sharp white fang.

"I dreamt…I killed you," Ginny whispered in a distant, shaky tone, her eyes widening in memory.

"Is that all?" Draco sighed disinterestedly, dropping his arms. "Half the people in this school dream of killing me, Weasley, I'm sure." He arched his brows arrogantly. "It doesn't mean any of them – or you – ever could."

She stared up at him as if he were completely insane, and then took a quivering breath, closing her red-rimmed eyes tiredly, as if she were struggling against sleep.

"I've seen more fortitude in flesh-eating slugs, honestly. You know, you're going to have to get used to feeling weak during the day," he said, impassively observing the dark shadows on the fragile skin beneath her eyes. "If you don't want people becoming suspicious, that is. I don't think even Professor Snape could pull off another school-wide forgetfulness draught."

Ginny opened her eyes again, and made a slow attempt to slide from the bed – her knees buckled, and Draco caught her before she could fall, even though he had been standing a good ten feet away. "W-what did you do to them?" 

He looked over at her mother and Pomfrey still standing near, faces blank and silent, and smirked. "They're fine. Just under a bit of a compulsion. They won't remember I was here. It's too bad, really, that  they'll be able to wag their tongues again in a few minutes." He wriggled his fingers at her mockingly. "The quiet is an improvement if you ask me."

"Oh, god…I can't believe this is happening to me," she whispered tearfully, her small hands clinging to the front of his robes.

"Leave off, brat. Stop that whining – do you think I sit around all day and feel sorry for myself?"

Ginny sniffed, cutting her eerie colored eyes at him. "I don't know," she finally said thoughtfully. "Probably. Only you show it in different ways. Like antagonizing poor Harry and Ron…and Neville."

Draco snorted. "My treatment of Potter, your thick sibling, and that fat ass Longbottom, has nothing to do with feelings of self-pity. Potter's a pest, your brother's a useless tag-a-long, and Longbottom – well, he's the weak sort predators are just attracted to, whether they be killers, or school bullies. They're all three going to meet the same sticky end one day, mark my words."

"Sounds like your 'daddy' talking," Ginny told him, her lips drawing back from her fangs in utter contempt.

Draco only shrugged, his expression cool and unconcerned. "There are worse people to be compared to – like that tattered, do-gooder father of yours, for instance."

He caught her clawed hands just as they were reaching toward his exposed throat.

"Tsk-tsk, little weasel. You're going to have to learn some bloody self-control," he detached himself from her and the straightened his robes in exasperation. "Your eyes are going to give you away if you can't get a hold of yourself, Weasley. That's why you have to be extremely cautious around the teachers. They're more experienced than the brainless clods they like to call their students. They get one look at your eyes in that state and they'll know _exactly_ what's happened to you."

She bowed her head, and then suddenly became fascinated with the sharp length of her fingernails, the too-smooth white skin on the backs of her hands.

"Everything's changed," she breathed, reaching up to run her hands through her glossy curls. "Everything!"

"You never lose that talent of yours for stating the obvious, do you?" He made the mistake of looking at her too closely, and felt his bloodlust rear it's ugly head again. Draco pressed his lips together, stamping down the urge, and then snapped his fingers rudely beneath her nose. "All right - pay attention, weasel. I have some things I may as well pass along to you while I'm here." Ginny looked up at him blankly, her eyes clouded. He sighed with disapproval, and took her chin into his fingers, lowering his voice to that even, kind, almost gentle tone that his prey couldn't help but answer to, of a hunting night. 

"Look into my eyes, Gin." He pointed. "Here. Yes, good. Are you listening?" 

She gave a tiny nod, her attention completely focused on him. Draco shook his head, disgust rising. Merlin, she was so bloody weak. He didn't know why he was even bothering. She wouldn't make it through the first week – they'd both be completely undead before Halloween, even…though he'd have the perfect excuse for not having that three foot assignment Snape was expecting.

"Fine then," he snapped, angry with himself for allowing his thoughts to stray, "first thing – the next few days you'll need to feed, and often. Otherwise it'll be impossible for you to even try to control yourself. The sun won't harm you, no matter what your instinct tries to tell you, but it'll make you feel the need to claw out your bloody eyes at times, especially when you're at flying lessons. You won't feel the need to eat solid food, but I'd advise you to, since it'll help keep your bloodlust to a minimum."

 "The best advice I can give you right now is to stay detached. From everything. That means you straighten your head out, look your mother and Pomfrey right in the eye, and tell them you're fine. The most important thing is to get out of the hospital wing, away from scrutiny. Keep your mouth shut and your head low – got it?"

Another nod.

"Wonderful – now get the hell away from me," he said through gritted teeth, as he caught sight of her pulse beating in the delicate blue vein at her throat. Draco hastily set her away from him with a less than gentle shove, and turned, making a show of brushing his hands on his robes scornfully. His fangs began to throb, and he fell back on that old, reliable way of distracting himself.  Insulting others.

"I don't care what that mudblood Granger says – I'm _not_ baby-sitting you. Come to me if you must when you need to feed, otherwise, stay out of my way."

 "I don't need anything more from you, Malfoy! You've done just enough already!" Ginny announced shakily.

He paused and then turned back on her with a slow, mocking bow. "Oh, it was my pleasure, believe me." His eyes flickered over her despite himself before he spun around again. "One more word of advice, Weasley, and I won't even charge you for it – if you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of Hogsmeade, and avoid the forbidden forest at all costs. There are even worse things than me hunting about out there at night."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe!"

"Pray you never have to find out," Draco muttered darkly as he pushed through the doors.

~*~

Though she unintentionally fell back into her deep slumber for an alarming amount of time after he left, Ginny finally did as Draco had told her, though it irked her to no end, and found herself quickly discharged from the hospital wing with an almost unflattering haste. Her mum and the rest of her family seemed to disappear as if they couldn't quite remember why they were there, and she found herself alone, standing outside the entrance to Gryffindor tower, all this just before dusk.

She gave the password, and entered the common room, which was quite deserted. Standing about, not quite sure what to do with herself, she decided to go up to her dorm and have a bath. Maybe it would prove to be somewhat soothing.

Malfoy had been right after all, about the sunlight. On the way up to the tower, she'd come across a landing with a narrow slit of a window pouring in light from outside. With everything in her she'd wanted to hide, and she must have stood there for a good ten minutes before holding her trembling hand out to the bright warmth, and feeling nothing but a slight prickle of awareness along her skin. 

Just the knowledge that it was daylight was making her skin fairly crawl, however. All she wanted to do was find a cool, dark place to lie down and sleep – but she couldn't give in to the urge. She had to go about doing things as usual as possible, to retain some sense of normality, since, unfortunately, her 'problem' wasn't likely to just go away.

After her bath, Ginny stood wrapped in a towel before the bank of mirrors on the wall in the bathroom. She eyed the foggy surface with some misgivings, hesitant to look on her face and see the changes present. Finally she wiped the mirror dry, and stared into her own face with awe.

The freckles were gone. Completely gone, as if they'd never been! 

The skin on her face was pale, smooth and unblemished – and not a shred of pink remained in her cheeks. The only color present at the moment was the deep, soft red of her lips, and the odd, silvery, iridescent sheen that seemed to have been cast lightly over the velvety golden-brown of her eyes.

She spent long minutes studying it, turning her head this way and that, as she discovered how it faded and brightened as it caught the light, glinting almost like a newly minted coin.

Her hair, well, it didn't have a hint of fuzziness about it now, and the color had deepened somewhat, become glossier and silky.

Ginny gaped at herself in disbelief, and swallowed hard. If it weren't for the fact that she'd become a blood-sucking fiend she'd probably have been jumping for joy! 

She couldn't quite bring herself to look upon her teeth just yet, but at the moment, thankfully, aside from being a bit pointier, they seemed to be of a normal length.

Down in the common room,  she heard voices, and she pulled her attention from the sight in the mirror to go and dress.

~*~

"What the devil do you mean by coming down here, girl?"

Inwardly cringing, Ginny dared a glance upward at her glaring potions professor. "I-I didn't know what to do. I-I thought maybe I could help Hermione…"

"You'll do nothing of the sort. I'm very sure, Miss Weasley, that what you know about vampires could probably fill a thimble. So you should know now that working in close quarters with others is going to become a rather difficult task for you. You shouldn't attempt it with only yourself and one other present, I'm certain you'll understand. You can lay the blame for that on your sibling and Potter's shoulders – they were supposed to be here over an hour ago.

 Two half-vampires roaming the grounds is quite enough, and though it is sufficiently perceivable that leaving you alone with Miss Granger at this point may not prove to be a complete disaster, it quite honestly wouldn't be a terribly wise plan. I suggest you remove yourself to a place devoid of temptation and let us get on with the 'joyous' task of researching a cure."

The door to the potions classroom slammed, and Ginny stood staring at it in lonely disbelief before it was suddenly yanked open again, and the tall, shadowy figure of Snape stood there again, thrusting a large glass vial of clear liquid at her. She accepted it dumbly.

"One teaspoon, and one teaspoon only, daily," he told her impatiently. "Dilute it into your pumpkin juice. Any more than that and you'll end up poisoning yourself. Now go on before someone sees you – it'll look more than a bit conspicuous if you're seen in the dungeons on a Saturday."

The door thudded shut again, leaving Ginny alone in the silent corridor, feeling more angry, hopeless, lost and scared, than she'd ever felt in her entire life. It figured that Severus Snape would still make her knees knock together, even after she'd practically turned into a frigging vampire…she was almost frustrated enough to go right through that bloody door he was so fond of slamming and bite him!

She probably would have if, on second thought, she hadn't reckoned his blood was probably black and tasted oily…

Ginny sighed, and turned away. If things were this bad on a weekend, she could only imagine what it'd be like during the week with regular lessons going on.

~*~

_"Developed a fondness for Snape, have you now?"_

The low, soft voice entwined itself around her senses, making her feel as if she surrounded by suffocating lengths of heavy, dark velvet on all sides.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she answered back tiredly. She couldn't see him, but she knew right where he was. "I was trying to help."

The tall blonde stepped out of the shadows of an alcove nearby, looking too perfect, too calm and cool to be made of flesh and blood.

"He gave you the potion?"

"Yes…what's it for?" Ginny wrapped a hand around the smooth bottle she'd slipped into her robe pocket. She'd thought it might be poison – she wouldn't put it past the greasy old git.

"It will help with the - _symptoms_ – for a while. Maybe even a few years, if you're lucky."

"D-do you take it?"

It seemed he took a long time in answering. "I could – but there's little enough reason to bother, now," he said at last. "Its usefulness ran out for me a while ago."

"Oh." Reflexively she found herself reaching up to touch her neck, feeling for the wounds that seemed to have disappeared along with a goodly bit of her humanity. "Well, obviously – or I wouldn't be standing here dead right now."

"_Undead_ – how many times do I have to correct you on this, Weasley? And you're not even truly that, yet. I swear you're nearly as thick as that brother of yours." 

Ginny gasped as he moved forward and grabbed her hand, raising it to lie flat against her own chest.

"Feel that?" he asked coolly, pressing against the back of her hand with his. "Your heart is still beating – you can start worrying about being _dead_ when you can't feel it anymore." He dropped his hand, but he remained close, standing above her with his fair head bent over hers in the dim light. "Of course, by then, you won't care – too busy ripping open some hapless fool's throat, I expect."

Feeling her stomach lurch, Ginny reached up to push him away. "Haven't you got anything better to do than torture me?"

"Oh, I haven't been torturing you, Gin," his voice dropped to a throaty purr as he arched his brows at her challengingly. "But I can certainly start, if you want me to."

"No!" She stepped back, knees trembling. "Sweet Merlin, you're evil!"

"I'm not evil," Draco replied, sounding unconcerned. "People just think I am because I'm not afraid to speak my mind."

"_Or_ hex people behind their backs, _or_ call Hermione dirty, hateful names, _or_ snicker whenever someone gets hurt or nearly murdered – "

"Fine. Maybe just a 'little' evil, then." He tilted his head slightly and smirked at her.

"Oh, go away."

"I think you're forgetting just whose dungeon you're wandering about in, little Gryffindor."

"I-I don't think I want to go backup there, just yet…it feels better, down here." There was something she never thought she'd say. The dimly lit, narrow corridors of the dungeons had always given her the creeps.

"Right – now I have to put up with you intruding on my territory at all hours, because you think it's comfortable. You'll doubtless be moping around the halls, sniveling how _wrong_ it is, having to skulk about, biting people, and feeling guilty into the bargain."

"While you, on the other hand, don't give it a second thought, I'm sure."

"Guilt is a disease. I don't see any reason to give in to it. But, believe it or not, I have, regrettably, fallen victim to it - on occasion."

"Oh – and was the world ending?" Ginny attempted to sound scornful, but it was a weak attempt. It had been hours since she'd last…er…eaten, and she was starting to feel her ever-present hunger strengthen. Even more so, since she was in the presence of Draco Malfoy, who seemed to have a devastating effect on her self-discipline. She pressed a hand to her forehead, suddenly feeling slightly ill.

"What's wrong, Gin? Feeling a bit…peckish?"

"Get away from me," she snapped, backing up – but he was already stepping near.

"You know what you want from me."

She shuddered, feeling her fangs make an appearance as she fought her aggravation with him helplessly. "No. Stop it, Malfoy, go away." Saliva flooded her mouth, and she reflexively swallowed, turning away, eyes flickering about in panic. 

"For Merlin's sake, Ginny, you know you want it. I don't fancy having to coax you along every bloody time you need to feed – just take it and be done with it. I have better things to do than waste my time."

_"I said, no!"_ She hissed, whirling back on him – that was a mistake.

Draco cursed. "Damn it, I don't know whether to kiss you or hit you until you bleed," he snarled beneath his breath.

His head was down, and he working on the cuff of his shirt, leaving one entire side of his smooth throat exposed and vulnerable to her heated gaze. "Try either and I'll rip your rocks off – providing you have any," she growled back, trying to tear her eyes away, oblivious to the fact that she was suddenly acting completely out of character. Her eyes homed in on the pulse beating strongly beneath his skin, just below his ear, and the baby soft white-blond hair that curled against it. She stared at it, both fascinated, and horrified.

Her mouth suddenly felt dry, as her eyes fastened on that bare skin – the sleek muscles beneath flowing down beneath his pristine white collar…she longed to taste that spot, just that one…

"Careful, I might just show you, Weasel." When he looked up at her again, his pale, wintry eyes widened the slightest bit at her expression, and she tried to tell him she'd warned him, but then it was too late, and she felt her fangs sink into the throbbing vein in his neck.

~*~

She'd bit him, that bloody little bitch!

_Him!_

Draco, knowing that her drinking blood from his jugular was far too intimate, far too risky, tried to push her away in that first, shocked instant after he felt the fiery pain, but she wouldn't be budged. In fact, even after he dug his hands into ther hair and tugged hard, she only growled against his skin and pushed him into the stone wall of the corridor.

A wave of dizziness passed over him, and he had to close his eyes against it. He was feeling the pain at his throat retreat, and that was a dangerous sign indeed…he heard his heart pounding in his ears, and after long minutes, it seemed to falter, weakened…

_"Ginny!"_

The pounding beat in his head warred with his sense of hearing. He heard the voice as if from far away, felt the girl holding him stiffen, felt her fangs retract, as if she'd finally realized what she'd been doing. 

"Draco – oh my god!"

He took a deep breath, fighting to stay upright, lifting his heavy lids to see Potter and her brother rushing towards them…and then everything went black.

~*~

Potter's specs were crooked – and he had a length of white gauze wound around his wrist, which he was clutching tightly.

It was the first thing he saw when he came to, lying on a damned uncomfortable desk top in the Potions classroom.

He knew before anyone had said a single word, he'd had a taste of the boy-who-lived.

"What the hell were you thinking, Potter?" Draco instantly sat up, dragging an arm across his lips as if to wipe something foul away. He fought the urge to go and boil his tongue – Potter's blood had a Gryffindor-ish, noble flavor that he found didn't suit his palate at all.

"He didn't do it for you, Malfoy, he did it for Ginny." Hermione was saying from nearby.

"Beginning to sound repetitive, Granger." Draco looked around, swinging his legs over the edge of the desk. He pressed a hand to his aching neck. "Where is she?"

"She ran off – thought she'd killed you, I expect."

"And you just let her go?" He forced himself to stand, though he still felt weak. "I'm surrounded by idiots," he hissed.

"What's your problem? Ron and Snape have gone after her – she'll be fine – "

"Potter, you fool! They're probably in bloody ribbons by now – especially if they've left the castle grounds!"

"What are you talking about?" Granger looked up from her books, looking frazzled and worn. "She's only just fed – she won't be that dangerous – "

"For being Head Girl, you aren't very smart, Granger. Of course she's dangerous – but she's not the one I'm worried about doing the attacking." He made for the door, his head still swimming, making him feel nauseous.

"Where are you going, Malfoy? What's going on?"

"Clueless as usual," Draco spat. "I'm not surprised. Sorry, I don't have time to fill you in, Potter."__

_~*~_

The early evening breeze was soothing against her heated cheeks.

Ginny finally paused in her flight of the castle, and looked up at the moon - it was nearly hypnotic in it's pale, serene beauty. The clouds swirled across the bright orb like black dust.

A snapping sound from behind her brought her attention back to the earth, and she tensed, recognizing with panic that she hadn't even realized she'd stupidly run straight into the forbidden forest.

As she turned instinctively to look for the noise, something moved in the corner of her eye, again from behind her, and she snapped back around, fear nearly taking her over as she recalled Malfoy's earlier words.

_"There are worse things than me hunting about out there..."_

"You should use better caution, _ma petite belle _– there are dangerous…creatures about."

Ginny took one look at the thing standing before her and screamed.

For once Draco had been telling the truth.

~*~

Before Draco could move very far he found himself staring down the business end of  Harry's wand.

"Now is not the time to decide you've finally grown a pair and challenge me to a duel, Potter!" he said in pure frustration. 

Green eyes met his steadily, and Harry's hand tightened with intent around his wand. "Explain now, or I'll kill you, Ginny or no." he said stonily.

"Aside from the fact that in reality, you'd probably attempt to gnaw off your own hand at the wrist rather than do anything that might even remotely hurt her, Potter, _and_ your incredibly lame attempt at acting tough, I'll settle for giving you the short version of it, just to get you the hell out of my way.

There's another – the one who made me, living in the forest. He's already gotten wind of her, and he's feeling a trifle lonely," Draco smiled malevolently as had the satisfaction of seeing the other boy's face go white. "If she gets anywhere near the forest, you can be sure it's over – for both of us. Now move your ass before I get really aggravated and you're left with a hell of a lot more than two bloody tiny punctures in your wrist!"

"I'm coming with you." Harry announced determinedly, jaw clenched.

Draco turned away with a mean, disbelieving laugh. "Oh, now _this_ should fun.

Maybe along the way, I should fill you in on a few things about vampires our dearly departed Professor Quirrell neglected to mention in our first year D.A.D.A. classes, Potter…"

~*~

"They don't turn into bats – crosses don't work. Garlic? You stand there with garlic around your neck, one of these buggers will bend you over and take a walk up your strada cioccolata while he's suckin' the blood outta' your neck. They don't sleep in coffins lined in taffeta. You wanna' kill one, you drive a stake right through it's fuckin' heart. Sunlight turns 'em into crispy critters. You got it?" ~ Jack Crow, John Carpenter's Vampires ~

~*~

TBC

~*~

( Next: Gee, you can't at all guess, can you. Yes, that was sarcasm. Apologies if it was lame. ::wince:: Anyway…hints for next chappy…

_ "Blood!" said Varney, and she saw his hideous, fang-like teeth. "Blood, the vampyre's motto. I have asked you to love me, and you will not -- the penalty be yours." ~ Varney The Vampyre, Preskett Prest, 1847_

"Come to me now, or I'll kill anyone who ever meant anything to you, kill them off one by one. I'll kill them all, and then you will have to no place left to go…but to me."

Muwahaha. Hahahaha. Ha. Evil, evil. ^_~ My evil twin wrote this, so if it sucks, blame it on her…)

~*~


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